


Tales Told

by Allikizme



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Pirates, Romance, a swashbuckling tale, also more kisses!!!!, basically the movie but different, excuse me pirate KING?, expect a rollicking good time, i needed more elizabeth, like imagine that elizabeth swann didn't sit in her cottage for 20 years and actually did something, rewrite of dead men tell no tales, so i wrote more elizabeth, tales of adventure, the high seas!, unforced and hopefully believable kisses!!!, yeah she tried to save will mmhm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2018-11-10 19:32:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 24,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11133264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allikizme/pseuds/Allikizme
Summary: Reimagining Dead Men Tell No Tales with Elizabeth as a central character





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So basically I thought to myself, "this needs 500x more Elizabeth" and I decided to just rewrite the entire movie because I haven't found a job yet and it's fun. Did I like the movie? Not really. Is this fic going to be better than the movie? Who knows. Am I going to have a LOT of fun writing it? You betcha. So enjoy.

Young Henry Turner is rowing out to sea. He drops a bag of rocks off the side and jumps into the water, sinking rapidly down to a massive shipwreck. He has done this before. He knows how this will work. He lands on the decaying deck, amongst seaweed and barnacles. For a  moment he floats, letting out his air slowly, until the ship begins to shake. Surge. Surface.

The ship floats on the water now, and he is surrounded by its crew. Pale men, like death revived. They look at him, at arms.

“It be young Henry!” one of them cries.

“Fetch the captain!” says another.

But the captain is already here, arms folded, disappointed. “Henry,” he says. “I thought you understood the last time.”

“F-father,” the boy says, shivering with the wet and cold. “Father, I can break the curse.”

There is a hush amongst the crew. Will Turner, captain of the Flying Dutchman, looks somewhere between upset and broken. “Please, Henry,” he murmurs, “go back to your mother. Don’t come for me again.”

“This be a cursed ship, son,” says one of the crew. Henry was told that he was his grandfather. “If you keeping coming aboard, you may never leave.”

“I can!” says Henry. “The trident of the sea god, Poseidon! It can break your curse, it can free you!” When Will shakes his head, the boy continues, “You could come home!”

“We are bound to our duty,” says Will. “There is no such trident. I have looked.” His expression became grave. “I’m so sorry, Henry, but this is the last time.” He takes his sword and cuts through the rope holding the rocks, making Henry flinch. “I will see you in nine years, my boy. Make sure you’re there.”

Water comes up over the sides again. The ship sinks back into the water, and Henry does not go with it. He watches it under the water, sees his father looking back up at him. And then the ship disappears in the murk of the water, and Henry runs out of air, so up he comes, clambers into his rowboat. He lies down, shivering and catching his breath, and looks up at the stars.

The trident, he thinks.

* * *

 

Alone in her home, Elizabeth writes. _Will, Henry has snuck out again. I imagine it’s to see you, as I used to when he was younger. I think he found my diaries. Or maybe he’s read the same book I did. It doesn’t matter. He misses you. I miss you. I wish dearly I could jump into the water for just a few moments in your arms again. It has only been a year but it feels like a hundred. But if I board that ghost ship again, I will never part with it._

She pauses, and pulls back the sleeve of her left arm. There. The skin is gray and briny. Something that looks like a barnacle sits there. She covers it again.

_And so, my love, this is why I cannot stay here._

Downstairs, she hears the door open. The creak of the floors. Her son is back.

 _I miss,_ she writes, _the feel of a sea breeze. I miss the thrill of the waves. I miss slipping on wooden decks and turning that great wheel. Weigh anchor, starboard side, hoist the main sail… I miss it. So much. I love you Will Turner with all that I have but this corset, these walls, this_ land. _I long to be at sea._

She hears Henry come up the stairs, puts down her pen, and sits back in her chair. The door is open, her candle is lit, and she can tell by the sudden cease of shuffled steps that her son knows he is caught.

Elizabeth turns in her seat. “Nice night for a walk, is it?”

Henry has the grace to look guilty, at least. “Mother, I…” He pauses, and Elizabeth waits to hear what sort of story he has. “I went to the stream for water. I, um, fell in.”

She nods. “So you didn’t take the rowboat out to the shipwreck and drop a bag of stones to go and visit your father. Good to know.”

Henry turns white. Elizabeth says, “It’s all right, dear. Come here,” and she holds out her arms.

Henry almost runs to her. “I had to see him, Mum,” he says. “I had to tell him. I have to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

Henry pulls back. He is shivering. He looks so much like Will. “I can break the curse.”

He tells her everything, the book he read, what the trident is, how to find it.

“A map no man can read?” Elizabeth says. She squints and nods. “All right. I know where to start.”

“You do?” Henry says.

"An old friend who specializes in this sort of thing," she says. "Captain Jack Sparrow."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've changed a lot but the goal is to primarily follow the plot of the film. I've only seen it once, though, so. not too much effort happening here i'm just having fun

In a cell, on the island of St Marten, sat a girl. As it was, she had been accused of witchcraft, which she found laughable. If she were _really_ a witch (which was, of course, impossible), she certainly wouldn’t be stuck in this smelly cell picking a rusty lock with her one good hairpin, would she?

There was a sudden echo of the main door opening, and she flew to the back of the cell and gazed intently out the window.

“Miss Carina Smyth?”

She turned. There stood a father, holding a Bible. He smiled that sappy smile. “A confession, before you are sent to be hanged.”

Carina paused. She glanced at the hairpin, and slowly approached the cell door. “I will confess,” she said. She gripped one of the iron bars in her left hand and continued to work the hairpin with her right. It was close, she could feel it.

“Do you,” read the father, “Carina Smyth, orphan of the state, confess to actions of witchcraft, hexing, and satanic occultism?”

She gave the pin a slight turn and almost jumped with excitement. “I confess,” she said, “that I am a woman of science. That many people believe it is witchcraft. That I once stole an apple from a cart when I was seven.” The pin clicked. “And that I picked the lock.”

The father frowned, but before he could do anything Carina rammed the door into his nose. He toppled. She glanced at him briefly and, determining he had nothing she could use, hurried out of the prison.

She dodged guards left and right, folding her hands to hide the shackles on her wrists when she couldn’t. She somehow made it out.

“The witch!”

Okay, maybe she hadn’t. Carina broke into a run.

The guards were chasing her with their rifles. Some part of her was flattered to be considered such a threat. She hopped over a barrel, ducked into an alley, and ran right into someone’s chest.

A boy. With a ponytail. And old noblemen’s clothes. He looked at her with wide, wide eyes, taking in her dirty blue dress and panicked state.

A cry sounded from the street, the captain telling his guards to fan out, they had lost her. Her heart jumped to her throat. She looked beyond the boy, and saw the alley was a dead end. Bugger. Bugger bugger bugg—

An arm draped over her shoulders and held her close. “Darling, I’m so happy that you would join me! But where’s your bonnet? No matter, there’s one here.” And the boy reached into the doorway behind him, and produced a bonnet.

Carina gawked at it. It was a nice bonnet. A bit old-fashioned, but white and pristine and lovely. And here was this boy (well, maybe slightly older than a boy) offering it to her. Offering her a way out.

She pinned her hair up in one swift movement and tied the bonnet around her chin. The boy was already wiping the worst of the dust and dirt from her dress. When he straightened up again, he offered her his handkerchief.

Carina hesitated, but accepted. She wiped at her face and neck and breasts. A fan would really complete the outfit, but no matter. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“You’d do best to get into a crowd,” he replied.

“I appreciate it.” Carina nodded, and curtsied. “Your name, sir?”

“Henry Turner,” the boy replied. He bowed, and held out his hand. “May I?”

Carina blinked. And blinked again. No man had ever offered to kiss her hand. Certainly not in school. Warily, she gave it to him, and he pressed his lips to her knuckles. He straightened back up, arms politely behind his back. “It was lovely to meet you, Miss…?”

“Smyth,” she said. “Carina Smyth.”

Henry Turner nodded. “Good luck, miss.”

Carina was almost reluctant to leave. But every moment spent here was one less moment to escape. So she nodded, turned, and left.

Henry Turner watched her go, standing like a bit of an idiot in the alley. Then the bell sounded the hour, nearly scaring him out of his skin, and he hurried off.

* * *

 

People gathered in the town square of St Marten, in front of the newly-constructed First Bank of England. It was a gorgeous, wooden structure with pillars and marble tiles such that one could almost feel that they were back home upon stepping inside.

And in this safe, Henry knew, was a very important piece of literature. It had been swooped up by a collector off another island. Henry had tracked it for months and now, finally, a chance at the next clue.

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen of St Marten!” called the captain. “It is with great pleasure that I announce the opening of the First Bank of England, here in St Marten!”

There was a polite smattering of applause. Henry remained silent, going over his plan again. He had a fake book in his coat pocket. All he had to do was go examine the safe with the rest of the crowd, drop his book, switch the two, and carry on his way. No one would be the wiser for at least a few hours. He had practiced the switch for hours. It was flawless.

He tried to not be excited. But he couldn’t help it.

The captain waved his hand, and two guards swung open the great white doors. Inside the bank was marble, cold and professional and not all like the savagery of the Caribbean. The people applauded again. In the center of the floor was a great, imposing, metal safe.

“At long last,” continued the captain, as a guard stepped forward to open the safe, “the king of England has provided us with a way to protect our treasures from thieving, barbaric—!”

The crowd cut the captain off as the safe door swung open. The captain turned, and his eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “ _Pirates!_ ” he screamed.

Henry craned his neck to see. Most of the crowd was recoiling in fright, but he pushed forward, until he could see that inside the safe was a body, atop bank notes and gold pieces and jewels. Oh god. The man was definitely dead. Henry felt a swing of sickness in his gut. Oh, _god,_ and the book—!

“He’s alive!” someone yelled.

There was a sudden surge as everyone pushed forward to see, and Henry joined them. The body in the safe twitched, then sniffed, then squinted and sat up.

Not dead, Henry decided, but dead _drunk_.

The man, to the amazement of everyone watching, managed to stand. The only sound was the clinking of the metal that shifted as he moved. He emerged from the safe, a hand up to block the bright sun, and exhaled. “Wha?” he said. “What? What am I doin’? Why am I here?”

Henry stared. Everyone stared. Except one person, who took the diversion as a chance to get closer to the front. Henry saw movement, and recognized the bonnet.

The drunk man turned around and stared at the vault he had just emerged from. The governor shouted something, probably “Arrest him!” but the drunk man neither heard nor cared.

“I’m…” the man mumbled. He thought hard. “I’m. I’m robbing the bank,” he realized. He turned and beamed at the crowd. “I’m robbing the bank!”

“Guards!” cried the captain.

Both Henry and Carina saw their chance slipping away.

Suddenly the vault moved. The drunk man whirled around. Then the vault scraped all the way to the end of the bank, crashing through polished wooden desks and chairs. It hit the wall, and stopped.

Once they arrest him, Henry thought, that’ll be my chance.

Suddenly there was a sound, like something very large being moved. And then.

And then the entire First Bank of England started to pull away.

The man watched it leave before turning to the crowd like an audience at a play and saying, “That was not part of the plan.”

Suddenly the man was face down and sliding away, his foot caught in a rope attached to the runaway bank.

For a few moments, Henry gaped with the rest of the crowd. It wasn’t every day that a building just took off. And rounded a corner in a cloud of smoke.

Henry took off after it. He couldn’t lose the book.

Little did he know, neither could Carina.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so. This story is not my best work. I'm doing this pretty hastily. That said, I am looking for a BETA READER. If you're interested in helping me by reading the chapters (and versions thereof) before they're posted, send me a message/leave a comment and I'll get in touch. Thanks!

Carina clambered up the first ladder she saw until she was solidly on the rooftops. The bank was pulling away. It was rather ridiculous, she thought, but not scientifically impossible. She raced along the roof and hopped to a neighboring house. She had to catch it. Her birthright was in that safe.

The drunk that had been inside the safe, she could see, was being dragged behind the building, stupidly waving at the dust flying in his eyes. She was too far to see that the safe door had swung open, and was losing its bounty.

* * *

 

The great Captain Jack Sparrow was having one hell of a morning. Waking up after nearly suffocating on your own morning breath was bad enough, but now his half-backed plan was going completely awry. As he was dragged along by the runaway bank he wondered, how had he not foreseen this?

Jack tried unsuccessfully to stop the tumbling of coins by dragging his arms along the road. His arse was starting to get a bit hot, and with his money jumping ship he ought to get back on board. He began to pull himself up the rope, pausing to wave at some ladies giggling at his situation.

He managed to clamber into the bank building as it swerved, and went directly for the safe to try and close the door. There was a tremendous crash as the building collided with another. He stumbled. He held onto his hat for good measure.

Jack lost his balance and caught himself on the safe. He saw, inside it, a treasure he had missed the night before. A small, leather book that scratched at an old, old memory…

The building lurched and Jack reeled back. The safe door swung shut and, with a crack and a snap, broke through the bank wall altogether. The building came to a sudden halt, and Jack, as an experience drunk, only stumbled a little as he watched his crew and bounty pull away.

He frowned after it. Well, at least he was in the shade.

There were footsteps. Someone came sprinting up the steps of the bank, swore, and took off again through the hole after the safe.

“That was…” Jack mumbled. He shook his head. No. He must have drunk more than usual last night if he was seeing Bootstrap Bill Turner from thirty years ago.

Jack scowled. He was damn old, wasn’t he?

“ _Pirate!_ ”

Oh. Bugger. Jack sighed. As if he hadn’t heard that very word shouted in that very accent a thousand times already in his life. He turned, slowly, disinterestedly, to be greeted with a familiar sight. Twenty royal guards, with rifles and bayonets aimed at him.

“Well-spotted,” Jack said. “I can do it too. Look!” He pointed. “A Frenchman!”

A few of the guards glanced away. Their commander was not amused.

Jack shrugged. “Worth a try.” He rolled his shoulders and held out his hands for them to arrest him. But then… now this time his eyes _did_ deceive him. Because… “A flying girl?”

“Someone hit him,” the commander sighed.

“No, really,” Jack insisted. “There’s a girl on the roof.”

Most of the guards held firm, but one looked. And lowered his arm. “Sir, he’s right! It’s the escaped witch!”

The girl had already sprinted by them, and Jack went to peer out the hole in the bank. She was, in her skirts and bonnet, chasing the safe from the rooftops.

“What,” the commander said, “in God’s name.”

Jack glanced at the men. They seemed, surprisingly, distracted, so he jumped to the ground and took off running.

“He’s getting away!”

Jack laughed. “You’re all a bunch o’ buggers!”

* * *

 

Henry’s feet kicked up dust as he sprinted after the safe. They were leaving town, and he was amazed that he was the only one still in pursuit. Even the guards had given up in favor of the drunk.

He knew, up ahead, lay the ocean, and these pirates were certainly taking the bounty back to their ship. A real pirate ship. He suppressed his excitement. He hadn’t seen one since the Flying Dutchman. Now he was nineteen. And this! This would be a real pirate ship, with real pirates!

Drunk pirates, he amended, thinking of the man in the safe. But pirates all the same.

His mother had told him such stories. He was excited to live it.

He slowed when he could see the beach, and watch the pirates all dismount their horses from the trees. There was their ship! It had a great big mast and was…

On land.

Henry stepped forward. What? What sort of pirates were these? He could hear them squabbling amongst themselves how to get the massive safe onto the ship, as the door had closed and they couldn’t open it.

“We should blast it with a canon!” said the dwarf.

“And destroy all inside?” said the one with a short, gray beard. “Not while I’m here!”

“We should wait for the captain!” said another.

Henry approached cautiously. There was only six of them. They were very dirty. They looked more like the drunks and beggars of the muddy streets than sailors of the high seas. They didn’t even have swords.

“Oi!” one of them cried. “Who’re you? What you doin’ ‘ere?”

Henry nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw each one of them pull out a pistol. “I’m… I’m… there’s something in that safe.”

“Yes, we know that, boy,” said the gray beard. He rolled his eyes.

Henry swallowed. “I’ve come to steal it.”

They all stared at him, squinting, not quite believing him. “You what?” one said.

Oh, this was going very badly. Very bad indeed, Henry. He should have started with more conviction. “I’m here to steal your treasure,” he asserted.

The pirates exchanged glances. “He don’t even have a sword!” said one with a particularly large nose.

The gray bearded man took a drink from a small leather canteen and wiped his chin. “Tie him up,” he said. “We’ll let the captain decide what to do with him.”

* * *

 

Carina had decided that these were the most incompetent and unimpressive lot that she had ever seen (right after, perhaps, the prison guard). But they had the safe, and in that safe was something that had been stolen from her only a few short months ago.

She thought it best to go around to the other side of the ship. If they couldn’t open the safe, she would wait till they slept and unlock it with her pin. If they did open it, she would wait for them to get drunk in celebration and pick it from them. The ship, up on its tracks for so long its wood was drying out, was clearly not going to hit the water anytime soon.

Carefully, she picked her way down the hill, avoiding too much leaves so as not to draw their attention. But then came a better distraction than she could have hoped for.

The boy from earlier. Henry. He was walking out onto the beach.

Carina gawked. What on earth did he expect to do? These men had just pulled the most ludicrous stunt of the century, they were certainly not above _shooting_ a _boy._

She stayed hidden and watched, too far to hear what they were saying but she saw very clearly when they pulled out their guns. It made her heart stop. She recalled the way the boy had kissed her hand, had helped her hide, had saved her life.

Carina Smyth was a survivalist, surely, but she always paid her debts.

She would save Henry.

Out she ran, her carefully laid plan of patience and cunning thrown to the wind as she rushed to aid him. She could feign being a nurse and he was an escaped madman. The bonnet would help. “Oh, oh thank goodness!” she called. “You found him!”

The pirates squinted at her as she approached. Henry full on turned (and gave his back to men with guns!) to stare at her. She slowed down. “Oh thank goodness,” she said. “Henry, you poor creature. Come back to the nunnery, won’t you?”

“What?” Henry cried.

Oh god. Carina kept her expression sympathetic. The boy was no improv actor, it seemed. “Sorry,” she said to the pirates. “He’s a bit soft in the head. We do our best.”

For a moment they stared, dumbstruck, then as if on cue all six of them drew their weapons again. “Tie ‘em both,” said the first mate. “This is above my station, lads. We wait for the captain.” He looked at the ship, then looked at Carina. “Tie ‘em next to the ship. It’s bad luck to have a woman aboard.”

Carina laughed without humor. “What? You believe that? That’s a scientifically improbable!”

The pirates stared at her blankly, as did poor Henry. Carina cleared her throat. That was stupid. She should keep quiet. If they tied her up she could maybe work her pin through the ropes and free Henry, pick the safe, get the book, and disappear.

The pirates brought several thick ropes down from the deck of the ship and tied Henry and Carina to a tree while two pirates held their guns to them.

“Gibbs!” called the dwarf. “We don’t have any more rope!”

“And?” called the first mate, Gibbs.

“How will we get the safe on board?”

Gibbs scowled. He wiped some sweat from his brow with a kerchief. “Let’s just… wait for Jack. Above my station.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I'm having a blast writing this. Second of all, I'm still looking for a BETA READER! If you're interested in reading the chapters and lecturing me when I'm slow, let me know!!! Thanks for reading!

On the Caribbean Sea there is magic. Beneath those bright blue waters lurk strange tides and creatures only spoken of in myth. In one such place there is a crop of black rocks that form a cavern between them. Those who know it know it as the Devil’s Triangle.

A French trader ship—one whose crew is seasoned on these waters, one that transports slaves from Africa to Haiti, sugar from Haiti to France, and sails empty back to Africa to fill its girth with more dark, terrified bodies—this ship sails across a calm blue sea as it takes fire from an enemy ship.

Pirate? British? They can’t be sure. All they know is that it is coming for them with cannons and they won’t stand a chance against it. They can’t risk the cargo.

“We must hide,” the captain says. His crew is only thirteen men. The ship has already taken damage on the port side and the cargo there is certainly damaged. “There.”

The Devil’s Triangle is waiting for them with open maw. The captain carefully navigates the boat between the treacherous opening. Their enemy won’t follow. They won’t risk it just for a bit of extra gold.

Inside the cavern it is black as night. The waters are calm. The sounds of cannon fire are distant.

“Look,” says a crewmember. “A shipwreck.”

They peer out over the side and sure enough there are the wooden bones of a ship. Her colors have long been lost to the water. She and her crew had not been so lucky. The captain squints his eyes. He thinks he may have seen something move in the water.

Suddenly, the slaves below deck begin to holler. They rattle their chains and scream and scream and scream. Their voices are unearthly as they echo about the chasm. “Shut up!” the men shout, but it only adds to the chaos.

The captain doesn’t see the first man fall, but hears the change in screams. Something is creaking so loud it’s deafening. By the time he turns there is a dark sword at his throat, and before him is the image of a drowned man walking.

He stands there, his uniform of the Spanish Navy, his skin gray like it is underwater. His black hair is long and floats about his head. The only thing the French captain can think of is that this man is dead, and going to kill him.

“I,” he says, with a throat full of water, “am Captain Salazar. I seek revenge on Jack the Sparrow.” He smiles. The captain loses control of his bowels. Salazar looks him up and down, and his smile drops. “No,” he says. He withdraws his sword. “This man will tell no tales. Bring me one from below—.”

And that is all the captain hears, because then a sword is run through the back of his neck and he drops to the deck, dead.

* * *

 

Jack had given up running. Damn it was hot. Where was that Caribbean breeze? Here he was, unpursued, manacled, and squinting in the bright sun. He was almost insulted the guard had let him get away so easily. Didn’t they know that they had _almost_ had Captain Jack Sparrow? It was like no one knew who he was anymore. Ever since Barbosa had become the fat, rich scourge of the seas it seemed that Captain Jack Sparrow had lost his luster.

He reached into his pocket, hands still cuffed, and his fingers brushed the cool glass bottle that meant more to him than all the gold in the world. Carefully, he pulled it out, and held it up before him.

Like this, he could almost imagine the Pearl was out there on the water, waiting for him.

One night—one bad, bad night—he had been so drunk he had tried to drink it. He had fought and fought with the stopper in the dim light until he realized. And then he had wept.

Jack’s upper lip curled. He didn’t like that memory much.

He repocketed the Black Pearl and removed his compass. It was a wonderful thing, when you were as lost and purposeless as Jack was, to have a tool to tell you what your heart desired. Here, the needle spun, and spun, and spun—

Jack clapped it shut before it could tell him.

Behind him, there was something like the squeaking of a cart. Jack fumbled pulling out his gun and whirled around. “Ah ha!” he cried, not really sure what he was expecting.

An old and uninterested merchant stopped his mule and stared, unimpressed, at Jack’s pistol.

“A ride! Or your life!” Jack said.

The man was chewing. He was slumped over in the shade of his great hat, and leaned slowly to spit his tobacco out over the side. The mule snorted. Jack could hear the buzzing of its flies.

Jack waited. The man was silent, but he made no move to leave. Cautiously, Jack approached. Only blank staring. Jack hopped onto the back of the cart. He heard the man click and the cart started to roll.

Huh. Jack felt very satisfied at how that intimidation had gone over. Better than his last few by a mile.

* * *

 

“So your plan,” Henry said, “was just to run out into a group full of deadly pirates?”

Carina paused, her wrist bent at an awkward angle as she tried to pull her pin from her hair. “Oh, and was yours really so much better? Approach them slowly and with confusion?”

Henry considered this. “But… well. You’re a girl.”

Carina wrinkled her nose. She should’ve known better than to expect as much from him. He was a _man_ after all. She winced with pain as she secured her hair pin, fueled mostly by spite.

“I figured a girl would have had a better plan than mine.”

She had the pin against the rope and was ready to start sawing, but she paused again. “Are you… complimenting me?”

“…I suppose I am.”

Carina’s lips tugged up just a little, but she quickly did away with that and got back to sawing. “So what did you go after a runaway safe for?”

“I need to free my father from a curse.”

Henry spoke with such vigor, such _conviction,_ that Carina realized he actually _believed_ it. “A curse?” she repeated.

“Yes. A terrible curse. There is something in that safe that will tell me how.” He turned his head. “I’ve spent my life researching, to find the one object in all of myth and legend that can break any curse.”

Carina kept sawing at the rope. It was pretty old rope, and going as well as she had calculated. “And that’s in that safe?” she asked. She sounded skeptical and she knew it.

Henry heard it. “Well. No. The map to _find_ it is in that safe.”

Carina nodded even though he couldn’t see her. “You know that curses aren’t real, Henry.” She said it like a fact. Because it was fact. There was no such thing as curses.

Henry was quiet for a moment. Carina was over halfway through their binds. Then Henry said, “You haven’t seen what I’ve seen.” 

Well, Carina thought, that was about as ominous as she liked to get.

“Oi! The captain is ‘ere!”

The captain? Carina hurried to slip her pin into the pocket she had sewn into her dress.

Henry craned his neck. Where was their captain? What was he like? Surely a captain must be an impressive man! He pulled against his restraints, making Carina nearly fall over.

In the distance, Henry could see a mule-drawn cart pulling away, and a man waving it off. He was far off. Here he began walking toward them, his image wavy in the Caribbean heat. Henry couldn’t help that his mouth formed an O of amazement. A real pirate captain.

As he drew closer, Henry’s sense of wonder fizzled out. Their captain was the drunk man from the bank.

Were this modern times and Henry knew of such a thing, it would have been like hearing a record scratch at the best part of a song.

Captain Jack Sparrow was feeling a bit woozy from the bumpy cart ride, and the sand was shifting a lot more than he could handle at the moment. Maybe that hangover was coming back with a vengeance. Maybe he needed another drink.

Carina was facing the other way. “Is he angry?” she whispered.

“He’s hungover,” Henry replied with disappointment.

“What?” Carina twisted in their restraints and recognized him. “Oh. Oh lord.”

Jack stopped and stared up at the ship. He looked back down, to the left, at the safe, still on the ground. He frowned and looked to the right. There sat Henry and Carina, tied to a palm tree, gawking at him. He gawked right back at them, squinting in the bright light, and then stomped up the boat’s gangplank. “Mr. Gibbs!” he yelled. “What the hell is goin’ on here?”

“We got the safe, cap’n!” Mr. Gibbs called. He and the rest of the crew spilled out of the shade of below deck where they had been playing cards. “It’s safe and sound, down below.”

Jack leaned over the side to look at the safe again. “Well, it’s certainly… below,” he said. He turned back to his crew. “And what, pray tell, are we doing with two little turtledoves tied to a palm tree?”

Gibbs was silent. One of the deckhands coughed, prompting Gibbs to say, “Well, ye see, Jack, they came after the safe. So we tied ‘em up.”

“Those two?” Jack said, disbelieving. “The boy doesn’t look like he’s even seen the upside of a girl’s skirt yet.”

“He looks about fourteen, sir,” Gibbs agreed. “What should we do with them?”

Jack thought about it for a half second. “Gentlemen,” he announced. “We are not in the business of kidnapping. We are in the business of _pirating._ ” He began to pace, as he often did when he felt he was saying something truly life-changing. “To pluck such youthful fruits from their trees is below us. So!” He stopped, eyes wide, and pulled his sword. “Let’s go put a scare in ‘em and cut ‘em free, eh?”

“ _Aye sir!_ ” his crew replied (in almost unison. They were working on that).

They cheered, raucously, and Jack vaulted over the side of the boat and dropped into the sand, feet first. It went a lot better than he had ever hoped.

The kids sat in the sand, the rope wrapped several times around their chests, squinting at him. Jack raised his sword.

Behind him, he heard his crew landing behind him. From the sound of it, only one had a landing as smooth as his own. But they recovered quickly and lifted their weapons as well.

“My my,” he said, coming closer. The two prisoners recoiled. It was times like these that Jack was glad he didn’t bathe often. “Didn’t think I’d get a couple of guppies with me treasure, did we, mates?”

The crew laughed. They flinched.

Jack leaned down, making them pull away further. “You know what happens when ye try and take a pirate’s treasure, do ye?”

At this, their eyes went wide. The girl had something in her hand, something she thought she could use, otherwise she would be much more frightened.

“Parley!”

Jack shifted his gaze to the boy, who looked surprised at his own outburst. He swallowed his fear and said, “I invoke the right to parley.”

Jack paused. “You seem somewhat familiar, have I threatened you before?”

“Are you an idiot?” said the girl. “They’re pirates! They won’t adhere to some backwards French set of rules.”

“What?” said the boy. “French?”

Jack held up his hand, and they shut up. “They want a parley!” he said, turning to his crew, who laughed like a chorus. “Let’s hear it, then.”

The boy opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He must not have thought he’d get this far. “W-well,” he said. “My name is Henry, and this is Miss Smyth.”

Oh, introductions! Jack loved introductions. “Well I,” he began grandly, “am Captain—.”

“Are you joking?”

He stopped short. The girl, Miss Smyth, had somehow twisted so she could scowl at Henry. “ _That’s_ your parley? Tell them our names? What, you think they won’t kill us if they can _call_ us?”

“Don’t yell at me!”

“You’ve got to negotiate!” She looked at Jack again. “Mr. Captain,” she said, “you don’t want to kill us. We’re useful. Well, _I_ am anyways.” Henry gaped at her, but she ignored it. “You need a way to get that safe onto your ship. I can do it.”

The crew spluttered with laughter. “A little girl like you?” said Gibbs.

“I’ll do it if you spare us,” said Miss Smyth.

Jack narrowed his eyes and pointed at her with his sword. She hid her flinch well. “What’s your name, love?”

“Carina Smyth,” she replied.

“And how can you get that enormous safe up onto the deck of my bloody ship?”

She smiled, just a little. “With physics.”


	5. Chapter 5

Jack wasn’t quite sure how the tables had turned, but it seemed that the moment Carina Smyth was cut free, she began giving orders. And the men, uncertainly, followed them. She had them tie the rope around the safe and throw it over the cross bars of the main mast, up and around several beams. She then clambered on top of the safe and secured the bindings.

“It’s a simple pulley system,” she explained. “The weight of the safe will be held by the mast, so that it will be lighter for us to lift.”

“W-well we knew that,” Jack said. “Ship’s full of pulleys, right men?”

“Aye!” said his crew.

“All right,” Carina said, ignoring them. She dragged the rope through the sand. “Out of my way.”

And the girl hoisted the rope she could barely lift over her shoulder and pulled.

And pulled. And pulled. And pulled.

And the safe lifted.

Jack’s smirk fell off his face. The safe. The safe that had taken a dozen horses to steal was being lifted by one tiny, skinny girl.

Up, up, up it went, until Carina was sweating and the safe was dangling just above the deck. She quickly tied the rope to one of the wooden props holding up the ship. “Come on,” she called. “Don’t just stand there staring up at your treasure. Come get it!”

Jack glanced around at his crew, who were still staring in shock. “Well what are you bloody waiting for, go get the safe!”

They scrambled past him, kicking up sand in their rush. Jack frowned after them, as he counted one body too many. “Boy!” he yelled.

The boy froze and turned, wide-eyed.

“Did I order you, boy?”

The boy hesitated. What was his name? Henry. “No, I suppose not.”

Jack scowled and approached him. “Haven’t I seen you somewhere before?” he said. The boy tried not to recoil at his stench. Bloody noblemen, Jack thought, too polite for their own good. “You look terribly familiar.”

Henry cleared his throat. “I’ve, er, I’ve always wanted to meet a pirate,” he said. “But I must say I’m terribly disappointed in you.”

Jack’s next words died in his throat. What… the hell. “Someone ought to teach you how to speak like you mean it.”

“My mother taught me to speak very well, thank you,” Henry replied.

Jack made a face. “Your mother taught you to be a kerchief used to wipe one’s arse.” Satisfied with his retort, Jack smiled and cocked his head. “Now get on me bloody ship.”

* * *

 

Carina watched the safe hit the dry wooden deck, her eyes hungry. There. Her most precious treasure, locked inside. It had been stolen from her on the passage from England. A girl alone, even an educated one, risked much by crossing the Atlantic. Carina had taken only one thing. And had lost it.

Seven months in the Caribbean, unable to do what she had come to do. Search for her father. Decipher the codex in the book as could only be done in the islands, so that she may find him.

She missed the blood moon. The white orb bled red in the sky and for the first time in months she had cried, her once in a lifetime opportunity right there before her, and over without her having the chance to use it.

She would get the book back first. Then she could worry about understanding it.

“Well, we did it,” said Mr. Gibbs, the first mate. “We got ‘er on the ship, cap’n.”

Mustn’t be too eager, Carina thought. She looked back, still catching her breath. “If you’d like,” she began, “I can open the safe for you.”

The pirates stared at her. Earlier, perhaps, they would have laughed. Now they frowned. ..

“Can she do that?” one of them asked.

“I dunno.”

“I can,” Carina said. “I learned a lot about gear mechanisms when I studied to become an horologist.”

The pirates, including their captain, snickered. Henry laughed too, then looked away.

“What’s funny?” she asked, though she was fairly certain she knew.

“It’s nothin’, miss,” one of the pirates said. “Me mum was ‘un too.”

Carina stared. “It means I study clocks.”

“So did she, when ‘e was ugly.”

Carina pursed her lips. “I’ll open your safe. You give me coin. Deal?”

There really wasn’t anything to lose, as Jack’s plan to open the safe had been have the crew chip away at it for the better part of the afternoon, but if the girl could do it… “You have,” Jack said, “five minutes. Or no coin.”

Carina said, “All right,” and spun around and began to pick the lock.

She had done this many times before. This lock, no matter the complexity, was merely gears and tumblers underneath. Her pin, which she had stolen when she was only thirteen from a cluttered shop in London, was as trusty to her as the guns were to their pirates.

The pin slid, and caught, and she heard the lock click.

* * *

 

Henry watched with amazement. Here he was, amongst real pirates, and the most incredible person there was a pretty, dark-haired girl. He himself had tried picking locks, and was rather terrible at it. So he watched, admirable. So what if she was an horologist?

Then, the sound seemed so loud. The lock clicked into place.

Henry gaped. It had taken her maybe a minute.

Carina straightened up and pulled open the safe door. She reached inside, rifled about for a mere moment, and then spun around. “Here,” she said, holding three gold coins. She looked a little flushed. Henry frowned. “I’ve taken my cut. You’re welcome.” She gathered her skirts and strutted between the incredulous pirates, her nose as high as the noble women Henry had grown up around.

Carina had done it. The pirates were going to let them go free.

Henry turned to follow her, but Carina had barely set foot on the gangplank when there came a great cry of battle. There, charging down the beach, were nearly fifty soldiers.

“Captain!” cried Mr. Gibbs. “The British are coming!”

“Buggers!” yelled the captain. “Men, load the canons!”

The dwarf, Marty, yelled. “We don’t got time!”

“Well, then!” The captain threw his arms up in the air. “Cut the supports!”

Carina gasped. “No.”

One pirate swung his sword and cut a rope tied to the mast. Henry grabbed Carina’s hand and pulled her away from the edge as the ship lurched, and began to slide.

Gunshots were heard, little _pop, pops_ drawing nearer as the soldiers ran across the sand. From where he lay on the deck, Henry could see the captain waving his hat farewell, with a jolly smile on his face. And he realized… he looked somewhat familiar.

The pirates cheered as up above, they unfurled their flag. A huge, flapping piece of black, with a white skull crossed with two swords.

Oh.

And suddenly Henry knew who these pirates were. Who their captain was.

The boat slammed into the water, knocking nearly all the men off their feet. But not their captain. Not Jack Sparrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kay so not my fave chapter? but oh well. Like of course pirates would know how to use some gd pulleys but I had no other plausible ideas that I felt comfortable enough writing with my limited knowledge of physics
> 
> also PLEASE if anyone can offer their beta-ing services, I would be over the moon.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am having such a good time writing this it's the highlight of my day every time i come up with the next part. thanks for reading everyone!!!

When Henry was very young, his mother used to disappear at night. He was a light sleeper, and most nights he could sneak to sit in the hall outside his mother’s room, and watch her write by candlelight. But often, maybe once a week, his mother would not be there. At first, he had assumed she had gone to bed.

One night, however, he heard the front door close. Henry rushed to the window, and saw a lantern making its way across the yard, heading down the hill toward the beach.

He followed. The grass was wet. His mother pulled their rowboat off the beach and into the water, and cast off.

She was going to see his father.

Henry had known it. His mother had told him stories about his father, brave captain of a great ship. _The Flying Dutchman._ And though the boy had never met his father, he loved him.

He waited there, for his mother to return with his father, and eventually fell asleep in the grass. He woke to his mother carrying him, telling him that, assuming he hadn’t caught his death, he could come next time.

That was before, of course. Before they knew the extent of the curse.

* * *

 

“You promised I would go free,” Carina snapped. She was significantly shorter than the captain, but she made the most of it. “In exchange for helping with the safe. You promised.”

“And you will go free!” he replied. “Just… not on that island. You said you wanted to leave it. Now you’ve got free passage.” He grinned, his teeth black. “You’re welcome.” He turned to his crew. “Now let’s see what’s in that safe!”

There was cheering, and then the safe door was swung wide open.

* * *

 

The book wasn’t there. All the blood left Henry’s face. No. He had followed its course painstakingly. Had tracked it to that very island. Had _seen it_ in the safe when the bankers opened it up to reveal—

Captain Jack Sparrow.

Henry looked at the man, who was swaying on his feet as he examined the contents of the safe. A miserable drunk, to be sure, but… his mother had told him stories. Perhaps Jack was more capable than he seemed. Perhaps he also knew of the book, and took it for himself.

“Well, lads,” Jack said, holding onto the safe door. “While… the bounty of this recent endeavor may be… less… than what he had hoped, let us not forget that, as pirates, we do not live for the treasure. But for the adventure of obtaining it.”

The crew was silent. Henry wondered just how clever this man really was.

“Be it,” Jack went on weakly, “very little of it.”

His crew was not rallied, or even slightly amused. They grumbled amongst themselves. Rather mutinously.

If Jack had the book, it would be wise to mention it, Henry thought. To keep his crew together.

Jack gave them all a winning smile, and then swaggered off toward the wheel of the ship.

“He’s mad,” murmured the dwarf.

“Aye,” said another.

“He’s still our captain,” said Mr. Gibbs. “Though, it’s getting harder to follow.”

If there was a mutiny, Henry would have to steal the book from Jack before it happened. As it seemed, the crew had mostly forgotten about him. He slipped away to talk to Carina.

* * *

 

Jack stood at the ship’s wheel. The sea breeze was too hot to be refreshing right now. He felt like a great, hungover imbecile. It had seemed like such a good plan when he had cooked it up three nights ago in the local brothel. But now, with so low a payoff and so much risk, he was beginning to wonder if he shouldn’t make plans while drunk and with a whore.

He sniffed, his hand absently finding its way into his pocket to the bottle that rested there. It was cool to touch.

No. Don’t think about the _Pearl._ He shook himself and instead withdrew his compass. What did he want. Certainly not to see the _Black Pearl_ on the turquoise waves of the Caribbean. No. Jack opened the compass and stared at the spinning needle. Tell me something, he pleaded. Tell me something new.

The needle stopped, pointing at him.

Jack frowned. He stepped to the side, to see if it followed, but it didn’t. It remained steadfastly pointing behind them.

“Well what the hell is back there?” he muttered. He turned, following its point, and saw the island fading into the distance.

And a ship.

A _ship?_

“Oi!” he yelled. “We’ve got company!”

* * *

 

Henry found Carina scowling over the side of the ship, watching the water roll by. He approached her slowly. Though she did not seem to frighten easily, Henry felt it was only polite.

She acknowledged his presence with a brief glance and adjusted herself on the ship wall. “You know,” she said, “I took three ships to get to that island. I crossed the Atlantic. I got arrested. And now I’m stuck on another ship. Full of idiots.”

Henry said, “Carina, the map. The only I told you about. It’s missing from the safe.”

Carina glanced at him again. “The map?”

“Yes,” he said. “To free my father. I told you.”

“Ah. You did.”

“I think the captain took it.”

“The captain?”

“Yeah,” Henry said. He leaned in and whispered, “Jack Sparrow.”

Carina scowled. “Jack Sparrow? Who’s that?”

“The captain!” Henry shook his head. “You really don’t know who that is?” he said. “Didn’t you grow up on pirate stories?”

“I grew up,” Carina snapped, “in an orphanage in England.”

Henry went quiet, a feeling of guilt taking over his excitement.

Carina sighed. “What does this map look like?”

“A leather book,” Henry murmured. “With a great ruby on the front.”

For a moment, she was silent. Then, she opened her mouth to speak.

“Oi!” yelled Captain Jack Sparrow. “We’ve got company!”

* * *

 

 “All hands on deck, get every bit of speed ye can out of this. We’re not getting caught today, mates!”

All the crew leaned over the sides of the boat to see their pursuer. Carina squinted and sure enough, there was another ship. She hadn’t seen a lot of ships in her life, not enough to identify them all. She wasn’t sure what this one was.

Henry, on the other hand, seemed to know immediately. “Oh no,” he said, and he took off.

Which Carina took to be a very bad sign.

“Jack!” one of the crew called. “We’ll never outrun ‘em. They’re less than a league away!”

“Cannons!” cried the captain. He looked at his hand, where he held a small wooden box. Carina couldn’t see what it was, but it obviously worried him. “Fire _only_ at my command!”

The crew ran about, and for the first time they seemed like actual pirates. She watched them load heavy lead balls into the iron cannons and prepare their flint stones and powder. Someone up on the wheel turned the boat sideways, so the canons faced the approaching ship.

And Henry chased after the captain, rather timidly trying to get his attention. Carina rolled her eyes and dropped to the deck to help the poor sap.

“Please, sir, er, Captain, I—.”

“Look, we haven’t got any privy, you piss off the side of the ship like a man,” Jack snapped. “Now shoo.”

“Captain,” Carina said, in her best attention-getting voice. “Henry knows something about that ship. You should listen to him.”

The captain paused in his order giving. He turned and swayed and looked up at Henry. “What is it ye know about that ship, boy? Hm? That it’s got sails?”

Henry flushed. And Carina, at a very inopportune moment, found it charming. “I know quite a lot about it, actually,” he said curtly. “Considering it’s my mother’s.”

Carina’s brain screeched to stop. That was absolutely the _last_ think she had expected to come out of his mouth. She met Jack’s eyes and it was clear that he was thinking the same.

“Well,” Jack said. “Now I’ve heard everything.” He turned. “Be ready, men!”

“Sir, please!” Henry cried. “I know who you are!”

Jack spun around. “Yes, well, boy, I don’t know who _you_ are, I don’t care who _you_ are, and if that ship gets any closer I’m goin’ t’ blow it damn well to smithereens. Savvy?”

“You do know who I am!”

Carina wanted to slap Henry. He was going to get himself killed.

“Mr. Gibbs!” Jack shouted. “Take this boy to the brig!”

“My name is Henry Turner!”

There was a sudden silence, as if even the waves stopped churning. Carina looked at everyone on the boat, and they all were staring at young Henry. Henry _Turner,_ apparently.

“That’s Will Turner’s boy!” one of the crew exclaimed.

“Son of the immortal captain!”

“And King Elizabeth!”

“King?” Carina said.

Henry looked at her, but his attention was recaptured by Jack. Carina watched the captain open the tiny wooden box again, stare at its contents for a moment, and close it again. He looked almost frightened.

“No cannons,” he said. “Put them away, you scallywags! Drop the anchor. And prepare to be boarded!”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so I'm doing away with the whole "duh what's a smart woman" thing from the movie because it was weak and unnecessary. elizabeth already shocked the pirate world to its core, they're not gonna be that shocked that there's a girl with a big vocabulary. Honestly felt like "oh shit right the feminists we gotta throw in something for them" and it became Carina's like only trait. So. None of that shit in here. 
> 
> this chap took forever because my boyfriend was visiting and then we went on a road trip for a week. please if you are interested in BETA READING let me know!!!

“What’s going on?” Carina cried. She followed the first person who rushed by her, which was Mr. Gibbs. “Who is King Elizabeth?”

Gibbs glanced at her. “Elizabeth Turner is King of the Brethren Court, democratically elected by the Nine Pirate Lords in Shipwreck Cove twenty years ago.” He took a sip from his leather canteen. “Or, thereabouts.”

Carina’s mind boggled. “ _What?_ ” she said, her voice going even higher in confusion. “There are pirate lords? A court? What!?”

“Best not worry yeself, lassie,” said the dwarf. “It’s a bit o’ history now.”

Gibbs scowled. “Is the Dutchman a bit of history, Marty!? Is that ghost ship not still sailing these waters?”

Marty, the dwarf, gave a shrug and continued on his way. Carina felt more confused. Then Captain Jack stepped up beside her and Mr. Gibbs, a telescope to his eye.

“Captain, sir, who is King Elizabeth?” Carina spoke as firmly as she could, which was very.

Jack Sparrow lowered the spyglass. “She’s a bad omen.” He glanced over her. “Gibbs!”

“Aye!”

“Make sure any rum aboard this vessel is kept out of the Pirate King’s sight.”

“Aye, sir!”

Carina felt like she was talking to walls. She looked around for Henry, and saw him at the stern, watching his mother’s ship draw closer. It was a small vessel, probably built more for speed than fighting. Its sails were white and full, its hull painted imperial blue, but it did not fly England’s colors. The flag was a solid red, with a single black line through it like the cut of a sword. Not quite pirate. But not friendly, either.

The ship glided up beside them and dropped its anchor with a splash. It rocked in the water. Carina could see some of the crew standing on deck, facing them. Among them was a small, black-clad figure in a captain’s hat.

The gangplank clattered as it came down. Four people traversed it with ease and slammed onto the deck, very obviously armed but not on the offensive. They fixed the crew with steely looks.

Then the black-clad figure, more clearly a woman now, stepped lightly off the plank in worn leather boots. She lifted her head and Carina saw her face—a beautiful face with large brown eyes and a long, slender mouth. But a moment longer and Carina saw she was wind-chapped, sunburnt, and fatigued. She looked about the crew with those eyes. They removed their hats with haste.

“I must say, Jack,” she said, in a crisp, light voice, “I expected to find you in better shape.”

Jack, who had not removed his hat, gave a wan smile. “I’m in great shape. I look exactly the same.”

“I assume you’ve met Henry?”

“Yes, your little… spawn.” He sniffed. “He’s just as annoying as his father.”

Elizabeth smiled, and it seemed genuine. Carina saw Henry blush. “I’d like to speak with you, Jack. In private.”

Jack glanced around at his crew. He said, “Well, I could never say no to you.” He bowed and gestured for her to pass.

Elizabeth the Pirate King made a face, but headed toward the cabin. Jack gave his crew a wary look and followed her.

“All right there, young Henry?” said one of Elizabeth’s crew. She was an old woman, with gray hair and leathery skin, but her eyes twinkled. “Gettin’ on?”

Henry blushed. “I suppose,” he mumbled.

“Oh, come on, Henry, you know we just like teasin’ ye,” said a gruff, bearded man. He was wide as a barrel and had a smoking pipe hanging around his neck. His teeth were yellow from tobacco. “The lad’s shy,” he announced to everyone.

Henry’s ears were red. “I am not!”

“Seems ye are,” Mr. Gibbs replied. Everyone laughed, even Carina.

One of Elizabeth’s crew clapped Henry hard on the back, making him jump. More laughter.

* * *

 

Jack peered through the rain glass when he heard laughter, but let it go. He turned to Elizabeth, who dropped into one of the chairs at his chart table and put her feet up. “Oh Jack,” she said. “have the years been kind to you?”

Jack blinked and shrugged. “No kinder than the earlier ones.”

Elizabeth chewed on her finger. “I’ve been looking for a way to break the Dutchman’s curse,” she said.

Jack paused. “Hm,” he said. “I suppose that’s not surprising. Don’t you get tired of adventuring? Don’t want to settle down with… I dunno, a couple of cats and a government pension?”

Elizabeth smirked. “You knew I was in politics?”

“I know everything, love.”

Elizabeth said, “Well yes I suppose I tried that. But honestly midnight rendezvous on a ghost ship aren’t the best thing for one’s reputation.” She hesitated. “Or health.”

Jack frowned.

Elizabeth pulled her feet off the table and rolled up her sleeves.

Jack’s eyes went wide. Elizabeth’s porcelain skin had puckered, with lumps that resembled barnacles pushing out. It started at her wrist, and went past what she revealed to him, presumably all the way up to her shoulder. Jack was filled a sense of fear and wonder that he hadn’t felt in ages.

“Part of the crew,” Elizabeth said softly.

“Part of the ship.” Jack met her eyes. “You’re not part of the crew.”

“I’m not,” she replied.

“We,” Jack sputtered, pointing, “we broke this curse. It all melted away, we were there.” He remembered the black spot that had appeared in the palm of his right hand, and fought the urge to check. It wasn’t there. He knew it wasn’t.

“We did.” Elizabeth looked mournful. “I’m not crew, Jack. I was a living soul treading on a ship of death. At first, it was fine. I could see Will at night and be home by daybreak. By day he did his duty, and I mine, and at night we could be together. I thought, we did it. We’ve beaten the curse. I brought Henry aboard. Henry. As a baby, even. So Will could meet his son.”

She rested her elbow on the table and hid her eyes. “I got tired, but I slept less and less. And then my skin began to grow dry. Just an itch on my arm. And then _this._ ” She thrust her arm out with a sob. Jack couldn’t look away from it. The hardened, barnacle-like growth was fascinating as it was revolting.

“I don’t sleep anymore, Jack,” she whispered. “The next time I set foot on the Dutchman I know I won’t leave it. But it’ll take me still. The curse spreads. Every day it creeps closer to my heart.” She stood, leaning against the chart table. “Curses can’t be beaten, Jack,” she whispered. “Only broken.”

Jack held her gaze. “How are you going to break it then?” he asked. “A change of command?”

Elizabeth’s lip trembled, just slightly. “There’s a way,” she said through her teeth.

Jack said, “You have my attention.”

“A map,” she said. “A map that I have tracked over ten years. A map that just as I was setting off to London was acquired by a buyer here in the Caribbean. A map that was delivered to that island,” she pointed, “in a safe to be held for that buyer. A safe that _you stole!_ ” She shuddered, and Jack remembered every time he had seen Elizabeth angry. This wasn’t that. This was desperation. “I need that map, Jack. I will take it if I have to.”

Jack decided to take his seat. Put his feet up. Relax. “And what,” he said, “does this map lead to?”

“The Triton of Poseidon.”

Jack stifled his laugh with a cough. “Well that’s a fool’s run if there ever was one. It doesn’t exist.”

“It does,” Elizabeth snapped. “Henry and I have researched it and it _can_ be found with that map.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “All right, and what does this map look like?”

“A leather book,” Elizabeth said. “Set with a ruby.”

Jack blinked. Now if that didn’t scratch at some memories. “Dearie I looked in that safe meself not half an hour ago and I can assure you there is no such map in that safe.”

Elizabeth stared at him. “You’re lying!” she said, and she stepped around the table.

“Wish I was,” he replied. “Now, whether that map had ever once been in there, I also cannot ascertain. All I can tell you is that I do not have it.”

“You’re lying.”

 “Am not,” said Jack. He held his arms out, amicable. “Would I lie to an old friend?”

“You’d sell my soul if you thought it’d serve you,” she snapped.

Whatever Jack had planned on saying next died in his throat. He studied her for a moment, this middle-aged English beauty-turned-pirate, fuming, truly believing what she’d just said.

He would have sold anyone. But never Elizabeth.

Elizabeth turned, her tears more than she could hide, and went to the window. Jack very carefully got to his feet. His fingers found the wooden box in his pocket, next to the cool glass bottle. Earlier, the compass had pointed behind him, toward the island and the ship pursuing them. Now he held it in his palm.

The needle pointed where Jack had feared it would. He closed the box. “Elizabeth.”

She looked back at him. “I won’t go,” she said, her voice feeble. “Not without the map.”

“I believe you,” he said. Elizabeth turned more, a bit of surprise on her face. “I want to make sure you find it.”

“What?”

Jack approached her, took her hand, and placed the wooden box in her grasp. “It’s yours now,” he said. He met her eyes. “You remember how to use it?”

“Y-yes, I…” Elizabeth blinked. “I can’t. Jack. This is too much.”

“It’s all right.”

“I’ll return it once I find it.”

Jack shook his head. “Don’t work like that, love.”

Elizabeth’s pinkened skin was returning to its normal color. She looked up at him, and Jack realized she was shorter than he remembered. “Thank you,” she breathed.

For a moment they stood like that, close. Jack searched her eyes and knew she was going to kiss him. To say thank you, to repay him, whatever. Jack cleared his throat loudly and took large step back. “Good hunting,” he said.

* * *

 

Jack and Elizabeth did not feel anything when the compass changed hands. The pulse of energy was not felt by mortals at all. Instead, it was a wave on the spiritual sea, pushing out, and out, and out. It tugged on the soul of Captain Hector Barbossa, while his shaking musicians played classical French music. It pushed through the ghostly _Flying Dutchman,_ waving her sails like and underwater breeze.

Through the sea it went, until it reached the drowned men of the Devil’s Triangle. A sensation of… breaking the surface after almost too long underwater, or squeezing through a too-tight space and emerging into sudden and open air.

A sense of freedom.

The captain stood over his men and raised his sword. “Jack Sparrow has given away his compass!” he cried. “The curse that held us here is broken! Soon our message will reach him and he will know we are coming for him. Now, to stations!”


	8. Chapter 8

The richest captain on the Caribbean’s turquoise waves was Hector Barbossa. One of the nine pirate lords, he had held great status once among his peers. Now he barely held status in his own armada, and among his peers he was both detested and envied. Certainly the idea of a lavish lifestyle was what all pirates sought, in theory. But now that Hector had achieved it, he found himself rather… unfulfilled.

He suspected, as he sipped what was apparently very good wine, his old friend Jack Sparrow had figured this out decades ago. “It’s not about the treasure,” he could hear him saying. “It’s about _freedom_.”

After all, Hector had many ships. But he still wanted for one. One small, dark vessel that sailed under Sparrow’s command. The _Black Pearl._

Now Barbossa had all the wealth he could imagine. He had a skittish trio of musicians that played on golden instruments. He had a powdered wig that itched his balding scalp and a great wide hat like a commodore. He owned the seas, and was disappointed that they seemed much smaller this way. And, with an aching stump of a leg and skin sagging off its bones, Barbossa would soon join the eternal prison that old age brings on us all.

So when something in his chest seemed to lurch and roil, Barbossa couldn’t help feeling a little bit of excitement. He knew the signs of something supernatural happening on these waters, and wanted to find out what before it got the better of him. He put down his wine, spooking his musicians, and hobbled out on deck.

“What the blazes is going on hereabouts?” he cried. He hadn’t had a good reason to yell at his crew in ages.

The crew scurried about in fear. These were not the tough, steel-borne pirates of Barbossa’s youth. These were a bunch of scallywags. He told them as much.

“Aye, sir!” they replied.

“Now what have you barnacle-eating bottom-dwellers done of merit in the past few weeks?” Barbossa demanded.

The crew blinked and shifted uncomfortably. Barbossa scowled and thought about walking in front of them, so as better to stare each one down, but his stump ached, so he leaned against the pole and settled for shouting at them.

“I once captained the most feared ship in the Caribbean!” he went on. “I was a cursed man. I died and came back from beyond the grave!”

Someone muttered something. Barbossa looked around sharply for whoever had spoken, but the crew was dumb. He scowled. “I,” he said, “know this sea because she lives within me! The goddess Calypso granted me life. I know when she is troubled.” He nodded. “Aye, lads, she is troubled now. And she calls to me!

“Get this ship ready and headed toward the Bloody Bay! I’ll be needing to make rendezvous with someone there.”

The crew stood there in silence. Abruptly, the helmsman lurched forward, as if someone had pushed him. He coughed. “Um,” he said. “Sir? W-what’s the Bloody Bay?”

Barbossa grinned an evil grin. Oh, he was _so_ glad someone had asked. “Ye haven’t heard the tales?” he said, leering. “The Bloody Bay is place for the damned. The dying. Those ostracized from the norms of society! ‘Tis a place where the sky is so obscured in volcanic ash that the very sunlight appears red in color.”

The helmsman said, “And we’re going there?”

“Aye,” said Barbossa. “The sea beckons.”

* * *

 

The Pirate King and Jack Sparrow exited the cabin. “We have our heading!” she said, and her men cheered in response. Carina felt relieved that soon she would be dealing with only one set of pirates. “Back to the ship,” she went on, opening up the small black box in her hand. “And set a course bound north—.”

Elizabeth stopped dead in her tracks, staring blankly at the box. She took a few steps backward, passing Carina again. Then she looked up.

“You,” she said. “Girl.”

Carina’s heart nearly leapt from her chest with fear. She ought to run. The only place to go was overboard. She swallowed her reaction and stayed firmly put.

“Her name is Carina, Mother,” said Henry, helpfully.

The Pirate King reached her in three swift steps. “Turn out your pockets.” She smiled. “Carina.”

Carina did not flinch. “’Tis a dress, ma’am,” she said. “No pockets.”

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows and looked Carina up and down. Carina had the very distinct feeling of being evaluated and weighed like a prize animal. Elizabeth said, “Once more, my dear. Turn out your pockets.”

Carina steeled herself and looked the Pirate King in the eye. “No.”

Another quirk of the eyebrow, then Elizabeth turned to her crew. “Search her.”

Carina almost screamed when rough hands suddenly squeezed her arms to her sides. The elderly woman said, “If I see one man’s eye I’ll shoot it!” before bending down and rifling through Carina’s skirts.

Henry cried, “Mother! Stop!”

“That includes your eyes, Henry!” the old woman called without stopping.

Carina kicked and spit as best she could, but the large barrel-like man had her pinned. The woman felt around Carina’s skirts, made a “hmph” when she felt something solid, and removed Carina’s father’s book from the pocket she had sewn into the dress.

Poor Carina was released, and she immediately went after the book. “No!” she said. “It’s mine! Please!”

“Back to the ship,” Elizabeth ordered. “You too, Henry.”

Henry looked at Carina, as if unable to believe that she had hidden the book in her skirts. He thought it was a map to save his father, he’d said as much. Carina tried to convey everything that book meant to her in a single look. But Henry looked away and followed his mother.

Carina screamed with frustration. “Thieves! You thieves! That map is useless! Did you hear me? It can only be read under the light of a blood moon, and there won’t be another for decades!” She wanted to sob, to rip her hair out. Finally she was reunited with her family heirloom, only to see it leave in the hands of _pirates._

Jack Sparrow glanced at her, chewing on his index finger. “Blood moon, did ye say?”

Elizabeth, also, had heard her. “What do you mean, blood moon?”

Carina swallowed and realized that she had, in fact, started crying. “It’s when the moon turns red due to a lunar eclipse. I missed the last one. I just want to take my father’s book and go back to England.”

For a moment, the only sound was Carina’s sobs. Then Jack Sparrow raised his hand. “I know,” he said, “this looks rather despairing and all that, but. There is a solution.”

“And what’s that,” Elizabeth said, while Carina just stood dumbfounded.

Jack paused, as if for dramatic effect. “The Bloody Bay.”

Some of the crew gasped. Especially Mr. Gibbs. “That be a cursed port, Jack,” he cautioned. “A place of the dying and the damned, that is. Death hangs about it so thickly that it turns the very sunlight red. Like—.”

“Like blood,” Carina said. Her eyes were wide as she turned to Elizabeth. “Take me with you. Please. If there’s any map in this book I want to see it. Please.”

Elizabeth looked from her to Jack. “Where is this Bloody Bay?” she demanded.

“Not to worry, Mrs. Turner,” Jack said. “For we will be escorting you personally.”

Carina suspected that Jack Sparrow was the sort of man who never did anything unless there was something in it for him. One look at Elizabeth’s expression told Carina she was right. “All right, Jack,” she said, her voice with a thread of caution. “Lead the way."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i must admit that Jack Sparrow is a hard man to write. i'm not entirely pleased with this chapter, but it's going where i want it to and if i don't post it now i'll never move on. 
> 
> i would still very much like a beta reader! this story is one i really want to finish and i feel i can't do it alone. thank you guys for reading!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey yeah sorry I just vanished for the last... 3 months? I was busy with work and grad school applications and finishing an original story. So! Don't think I've abandoned this. I plan to get right back in it! 
> 
> Happy New Year!

They sailed all day and all through the night. Henry had gone to sleep in his hammock below deck long after dark, and now morning had come and his mother was still standing at the helm of her ship _The Tide Turner._ She had steered it all through the night, following Jack’s decrepit ship across the Caribbean.

Henry walked up to her. She turned and smiled at him, her eyes tired and heavy. “Good morning, dear,” she said. “Did you sleep all right?”

“Yes, Mum, of course,” Henry replied. “How was your night?”

Elizabeth turned back to the horizon. “Calm. I gave Carina my cabin. As an apology, of sorts. God knows I don’t need it.”

Henry sighed. “I wish you hadn’t been so cruel with her.”

Elizabeth was stoic. “This world is cruel,” she said. “I did what needed to be done.” Then she turned to him again. “I’m sorry, my love. I chose this life. Your friend didn’t. I’ll get her to safety as soon as I can.”

Silence fell between them. Henry thought about Carina, about meeting her and giving her the bonnet his mother had used as a disguise a few days earlier. If only Henry had gotten the book out of the safe. If only Jack Sparrow hadn’t been there.

“Do you trust Jack?” he asked.

“Not a bit,” Elizabeth replied. “He’s selfish and only out for his own gain.” She paused. “But he is a good man. At the end of it all.” She glanced at her son. “What do you think of him?”

Henry said, “I think he smells.”

Elizabeth laughed.

“And,” Henry went on, “I think he’s a bit… washed up.” He frowned. “He’s almost nothing like the stories you told me.”

“He’s not the same as when I met him,” his mother agreed. “But, I suppose none of us are.”

Henry nodded. His mother always made their adventures on the high seas sound so incredible, had built up his expectations for pirates and the like. But now he wondered if she wasn’t stuck in the past, wishing for what used to be. Suddenly, though, he was distracted by the sight of land. “Is that it?” he asked, pointing.

It was closer than Henry had expected, but now he realized there had been a thick cloud of smoke obscuring it from their sights. He could see the port and its town, with light in nearly every window. Around the town, the vegetation was sparse. Whatever sunlight got through the smoke wasn’t enough to give it the Caribbean lush he was used to. But of course, the most impressive part was the mountain—a great, smoking tower, with several slow, glowing red rivulets running down its sides.

“Aye,” said his mother. Jack Sparrow’s ship was turning to drop anchor. Elizabeth pulled up alongside them and went to do the same.

Soon the crew was awake and ready to man the ship while their captain was away. Carina came out of the cabin, coughing in the smoke but wide awake. He hoped his mother would let her have the book back, but Elizabeth didn’t offer and Carina didn’t ask. They all mounted the rowboat and Cowls, the large, barrel-chested man, handled the oars.

* * *

 

The Bloody Bay was like one great, riotous brothel. Even at seven in the morning, the place was loud enough to be heard from the longboats. When they docked, Carina was the first one off, and someone came up and demanded a fee.

“Ye look like a nice lady,” said the man, leering over her. “It’ll cost ye gold to tie up your boat.” He smiled, his teeth all manner of rotten. “Unless ye can’t pay…”

Henry began scrambling to join her, but Elizabeth was on the dock in a heartbeat. “It’ll cost,” she said, sword drawn so fast that Carina didn’t even _see_ it, “you your life if I see you look at her like that again.”

The man drew back. “Of course, milady,” he grumbled. He muttered something entirely impolite under his breath and then left them alone.

Elizabeth sheathed her sword. “Cowls,” she said, “watch the boat. I’ve no interest in being stranded here.”

“Aye, ma’am.”

The air was smoky and had Carina coughing every few minutes. Once off the dock, Jack Sparrow and Mr. Gibbs joined them. They could see that every building had lights burning in their windows, and people dangling from most of them. A good deal of drunk men wandered and slept in the street, some of them old, some of them very visibly ill.

“For a buncha dying men they seem to be having a good time,” Mr. Gibbs said.

“When can we look at this map, Jack,” Elizabeth demanded.

“Patience is a virtue,” Jack replied. “You need to wait for the moon.” He clapped his first mate on the back. “Let’s go get drunk.”

“Aye, sir!” Mr. Gibbs laughed.

“It’s seven in the morning!” Carina cried.

“Something an horologist would know, I’m sure,” Jack said. He linked arms with Mr. Gibbs and they strutted off.

Elizabeth heaved a great sigh. “We’d better keep an eye on them,” she said, and she followed. Leaving Carina and Henry standing in the middle of the street.

Carina gawked at the Pirate King’s retreating back. “Should… should we follow her?”

Henry said, “Uh. We should. Yes.”

Carina waited for him to move, but Henry was apparently unable to function with all of the debauchery going on around him. Finally, Carina grabbed him by the hand and dragged him after his mother.

* * *

 

Henry stood against a wooden pillar, talking with a group of prostitutes. He had been blushing for so long that Carina wondered if he wouldn’t lose some extremities due to lack of blood flow. The women were as primed as whores could be, with excessive, bold makeup and their breasts so high Carina wondered if they could breathe.

A fourth whore came to join the gaggle that was already fawning over him. “ _What_ a lovely boy,” one of them said. “And you’ve been to England?”

Henry nodded. “Yes. I didn’t like it much. It rains an awful lot.”

Another gasped. “You have _such_ a lovely accent,” she said.

“The men here never talk to us,” another pouted. “They just want to fuck.”

Carina didn’t think it possible, but Henry blushed _even harder._ “Well, well, I assure you, ladies, I don’t—.”

“He called us _ladies!_ ” one said, and they all giggled and fawned some more.

Carina was sitting at a table next to Elizabeth, with Jack and Gibbs on the other side. They had been there an hour and the two men were finishing their third tankard of ale. Elizabeth sipped her own tankard slowly.

“I, um, I heard you’re the Pirate King,” Carina said. She smiled uncertainly.

Elizabeth looked over at her, and her smile was genuine. “I am,” she said. “Thanks to dear Jack.”

Jack wiped at the ale in his beard with his hand. “This woman,” he said, pointing at her, “killed me.” He offered no further explanation, but took Elizabeth’s drink and finished it off.

Elizabeth laughed like it was an old joke, then turned back to Carina. “And you, dear, tell me. Where are you from?”

“England,” said Carina. “I studied at Oxford, and then I came here to uncover the mystery left to me by my father.” She lifted her own tankard. “And I buggered it all up.” She took a drink and choked. It was _strong._

“We’ll soon know the mystery behind it,” Elizabeth assured her. “And, hopefully, break the curse on my husband.” Then she gave her a knowing look. “Of which, my son tells me, you are skeptical.”

Carina glanced away. Mr. Gibbs said something about more ale and Jack announced he was going out for a piss. “I’m a woman of science, ma’am,” she said. “I only believe in what I know.”

Elizabeth nodded. “That’s a healthy way to live,” she agreed. “But, I promise you, while you’re here in the Caribbean, you will see the world in a way you never thought possible.”

“Is this the part where you tell me about…” Carina waved a hand. “Mermaids? And ghosts?”

Elizabeth said, “Do not reject what you do not know simply because you do not know it.” She smiled. “Otherwise how will you learn anything?”

Carina already had her “scientifically impossible” remark ready, but stopped short. She looked down at her ale, feeling a little embarrassed.

“Mum,” Henry said, appearing at the edge of their table. “How long will we be here? Detta and her friends have offered to make us lunch.”

“All of us?” Elizabeth queried, and Henry nodded eagerly. “We’ll be here until tonight, love. So that’s fine.”

One of the prostitutes appeared at his side. She was pretty enough, though a bit disheveled. “Are you ‘is mum?” she said. “I’m Detta. Oh, and you must be his _guhl_ friend.” She beamed.

Carina blinked, and Henry, once again, blushed.

* * *

 

Jack, as should have been obvious, did not just go for a piss. He in fact made his way through the town towards a low house, and drunkenly descended the steps to its underground main entrance.

He knocked twice, waited, then opened the door and went inside.

It looked just as he remembered. Few windows, lots of smoke, and a great many herbal smells. A fire burned in the middle of the room, under a large metal basin.

“Look who it is,” said a whispery voice. “A little sparrow, come to seek shelter from the storm.”

Jack peered back out the door he had just come through. “The weather’s quite nice, actually.”

The woman standing in the back of the room turned around and smiled. She was completely bald, with tattoos running all over her skull, cheeks, and arms.

Jack nodded. “Nice to see you again, Shansa.” 

“Tell me,” Shansa said, “what do you seek, dear bird?”

“Shouldn’t you know that?” Jack replied.

“I see only what is needed,” the witch said, walking slowly around the fire towards him. “Not what is wanted.” She kept her eyes on him, rarely blinking. “And you, Sparrow, you always want something.”

Jack snickered, remembering the one time he had offered to pay with his body. “I want to know,” he said, “if the Dutchman must have a captain.”

Shansa gazed at him, cocking her head just a little. “That is the one rule on these waters. You know it well, Jack.”

Jack grimaced. He’d been afraid of this. “I was just wondering—.”

“William Turner captains the ship of lost souls. Before him, it was Davy Jones. Before him, it was Calypso. Before her, there were no waters to speak of. Someone must ferry souls lost at sea beyond the horizon.”

Jack nodded. “That’s what I thought.” He sighed and made to leave. “Suppose there’s no need to pay for what you already know, eh? So I’ll just—.”

“Wait.”

Jack froze. He felt, behind him, the cold presence of the sea witch. He made a face and turned back around.

Shasna gazed up at him. “You need it,” she said. “What the pirate king seeks.” She inhaled. “The trident.”

Jack stared. “You’re gettin’ a bit weird, love.”

“You need the trident or _you will perish at the hands of vengeful men_ ,” she whispered. “ _The storm is coming._ ”

Jack knew a prophecy when he saw one. And he had enough experiences with these things that he knew he ought to be writing this down. He scrambled to find a piece of paper and some charcoal on his person.

“ _What your heart desires more than anything will be yours,_ ” she hissed. “ _If you only choose to pursue it._ ”

Finally Jack found a yellowed bit of parchment and a stick of charcoal on the floor. “All right,” he said. “From the beginning.”

But the trance had broken. Shansa exhaled and looked at him, then walked away. Jack tried not to be too disappointed.

“There is payment for crossing my door, Sparrow,” said the witch, looking lovingly into her silver basin. “You remember.”

Jack grimaced. “I do.”

“What have you brought?”

Jack held out his hand. “The blood of a man who’s been to the locker.”

Shansa turned and grinned. “That will do nicely.”

* * *

 

Barbossa tied his longboat on the docks of the Bloody Bay. The same sick man came up and said, “It’ll cost ye gold to—” but Barbossa pushed him into the water with one fluid motion. He turned back to his meek crew. “Anders,” he said, “mind the boat. The rest of you, with me.”

They clambered to follow him. Barbossa straightened his magnificent hat and surveyed his surroundings. The last time he had been here was not long after he lost his leg. And the time before that had been when he was first cursed with the gold of Cortez. Now he was here again.

“Careful not to damage that cargo, lads,” Barbossa said.

His crew nodded eagerly. Each of them held a crate, some of them struggling under the wait as they chased after him.

Even though it had been so long, Barbossa knew where he was going. He marched through the town and its drunken, sickly population, towards a low shack, and down the steps inside it. He rapped twice on the door, and entered.

And saw none other than Jack bloody Sparrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if anyone has a better idea for the name of Elizabeth's ship I would love to hear it!


	10. Chapter 10

“I’d like to say that our paths crossing here is coincidence,” Barbossa called, “but I’ve learned that fate is rarely so whimsical when it comes to you.”

“If fate were whimsical it would have brought me to the unholy offspring of Will and Elizabeth Turner,” Jack replied easily.

Barbossa blinked. “Aye,” he said, though he wasn’t sure what he was aye-ing. “And how be our dear witch Shansa?”

“I think ye should ask her yeself, mate.” Jack wrinkled his nose. “It’s a bit more polite, don’t you think?”

Barbossa squinted. He wasn’t sure if Jack was teasing him or scolding him. He nodded. “And where is the Pearl? I didn’t see her when we moored.”

Jack started walking. “In my pocket,” he said, and he brushed past them.

Barbossa and his crew turned and watched him leave, arms waving. Barbossa shook his head and went on to descend the steps to the witch’s hut. He knocked and entered, leaving his crew to stand outside.

The room was dark, and smelled strongly of sandalwood. “Ah,” said the witch, and Barbossa spotted her near the back, standing at a table with a large pot on it. “Hector. Would you care for some tea?”

Barbossa grimaced, remembering the last time he had accepted her tea. “No, thank you,” he said, and he managed a smile.

Shansa’s eyes glittered in the firelight, and she stepped around the table to approach him. “How interesting for you to cross my door,” she said. “One man who’s been to the locker, and one who has been to the farther fields.” She smiled, and her teeth were black. “This is a good day.”

“I come seeking information,” Barbossa said. “I felt a change on the sea. The goddess herself was disturbed. I owe her my life. Tell me what ails her, so that I may once again serve her.”

“Hm,” said Shansa. “You’re right that she is restless.”

Movement caught Barbossa’s eye, and a rat scuttled across the table. Shansa grabbed it in a flash and broke its neck. Then she took the knife from the table and slit the animal open.

“Yes,” said the witch. “How strange. I saw this earlier, with our dear sparrow.” She smiled, then whispered, “A storm is coming.”

That bodes well, Barbossa thought sarcastically. “What sort of storm?”

Shansa peered at the entrails. “There is a man who comes here now,” she said. “He knows more than I do.” She looked at Barbossa with eyes of steal. “Jack will not weather this storm, captain. His only hope is the trident.”

Barbossa scoffed. “The trident? Of all the mad things to seek. It can never be found.”

“It can,” Shansa replied. “Your goddess wills it. And so it shall be.” She paused. “Anything else?”

Barbossa said, “I have droves of treasure. More than any pirate lord before me. What will become of it, of me, in this storm?”

Shansa glanced back at the entrails. She said, “Would you die for your treasure?”

Barbossa grinned. “Not more than once.”

“Then let me tell you one last thing, Hector,” she said. “You need to go with Jack. Soon the dead will be upon him.”

“Why would I go with him and put meself in harm’s way?”

Shansa said, “Because you need the trident too.”

Barbossa hesitated, then held up his hand for the knife. “Payment,” he said.

“Keep your blood, Hector,” Shansa told him. “You’re going to need it.”

* * *

 

Jack checked in the pub and found no one but a very merry Mr. Gibbs. He easily swindled his unfinished drink from him and then set off to find Elizabeth, and let her know what he now knew. That there wasn’t any hope for Will. Maybe she should set her sights elsewhere.

He meandered to the docks, downing his drink as quick as he could, when he came upon a small crowd. He tossed away his tankard and pushed to the front.

The sight that greeted him immediately struck fear into his heart.

* * *

 

Carina really couldn’t believe that she had just sat through supper with a gaggle of silly prostitutes, a pirate king, and a boy she’d just met. If it weren’t for the possibility of finally discovering the secret left to her by her father, she would have hopped the next ship back to England, where there wasn’t so much sun to make people this odd.

“What do you think happened to Jack?” Henry wondered, turning and waving to the girls as they walked away.

Elizabeth laughed a little. “Probably passed out drunk. He hasn’t changed at all.”

Carina said, “It’s so long before nightfall. Can’t we go back to the ship?” She really, truly did not want to stay on this disease-ridden island.

“Yes, Mother, we have time,” Henry added, giving Carina a supportive look.

Carina resisted rolling her eyes.

Elizabeth agreed and they headed back to the docks, where there appeared to be some commotion. “What’s going on?” the Pirate King asked a bystander.

“Dunno, miss,” the man replied.

“There’s a strange ship in the harbor,” said another man who happened to overhear. “People up there are callin’ it a ghost ship.” He raised an eyebrow. “And a man’s come ashore.”

* * *

 

Barbossa had hightailed it out of Shansa’s hut, peg-legging it as fast as he could. His crew hurried about him, asking what had happened, where were they going, like a bunch of annoying children. He needed to catch up with Jack before he got too far off. Meeting him here was a design of fate, and if he missed him he might miss so much more.

After sending one of his men to check the tavern, and finding nothing, he ushered them toward the docks. A crowd was forming, blocking most of the access to the docks, but from where he stood Barbossa could see out into the harbor, and in the fog and the setting sun he saw the _Flying Dutchman._

“Where be Jack Sparrow?” a voice called over the crowd. And that voice, too, Barbossa knew well. He had sent that man to the depths of the sea, over twenty-five years ago.

Someone called, “Who the hell is Jack Sparron?”

“He said _Sorrow,_ not Sparron.”

Barbossa rolled his eyes and glimpsed the notorious Sparrow’s hat dodging through the crowd. “There!” he yelled, pointing with his sword. “There be Jack Sparrow!”

The crowd all turned to see. Jack froze and grimaced. “It,” he said, “is _Captain_ Jack Sparrow.” He spun around. “Captain! Captain! Why else do I wear this bloody hat if nobody will bloody call me captain?”

“Jack!” Bill Turner called.

Elizabeth stepped forward. “Bill?”

The undead sailor frowned and then beamed. “Elizabeth! And dear Henry! It’s a family reunion!”

“Who is this?” Carina hissed.

Henry could just imagine trying to explain this. “Um.”

Barbossa pushed his way through the crowd. “Go on,” he shouted at the bystanders. “There ain’t nothin’ here worth seein’. Go on! It’s only a family meeting.”

The crowd lingered for a bit longer, but when Bill embraced Elizabeth and Henry they lost interest. “It’s so wonderful to see you!” he said. “What are you doing at the Bloody Bay, of all places?”

Henry said, “We’ve found the map to the trident!”

Every single person in the group shushed him. “Not so _loud,_ ” Elizabeth hissed.

But Bill’s eyes went wide. “You’ve found it?” he said. He shook his head. “Maybe so, but the trident itself can never be found.” He turned to Jack and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “And you, my friend, have bigger problems, I’ve afraid.”

Jack’s mind went back to Shansa and her cryptic prophecy. “Do I?”

“Come aboard,” Bill said. “Everyone! The captain would be thrilled to see the lot of you again!”

“See Father?” Henry said, unable to hide his eagerness.

“What about the moon?” Carina cried.

“We’ll be back in time,” Henry replied.

“Come, please, Will would love to see you!” Bill insisted, gesturing to the boat.

Jack was remembering all the terrible things that had happened the last few times he had been aboard the _Dutchman._ “No, I—.” He turned to try and sneak off, but Barbossa was right behind him.

“It’s rude to refuse an invitation, Jack,” he mumbled.

“Go ahead, my dear,” Elizabeth said. “I’ll stay here and find a good spot for the moon.”

They piled into two lifeboats, as there were so many of them. Carina watched Elizabeth on the shore as they rowed away. Then she turned to Henry. “So if your mother is Pirate King, what does that make your father?”

Henry thought about it. “I don’t know.”

“So this,” said Barbossa, “is the newest Turner.” He grinned at Henry. “You must be proud, Bootstrap.”

“Sorry,” Henry said. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

Barbossa tipped his hat. “Captain Hector Barbossa. I married your parents.” He nodded to Carina. “And you, my dear?”

“My name is Carina Smyth,” she said.

Barbossa’s jaw dropped for a moment, then clamped shut. He said nothing more.

Jack, of course, took note. He threw himself into the conversation. “Carina,” he said, “that’s the Northern Star, innit?”

Carina glanced at him. “Yes.”

“Only a sea-faring man would have chosen such a name. Was he a sailor, your father?”

Carina hesitated. She sensed he was digging at something, but she wasn’t sure what. “I wouldn’t know,” she said slowly. “I’m an orphan, and I never knew my parents.” She gripped the book through her dress, assuring herself it was still there.

Barbossa looked pointedly out at the sea.

Bill waved a lantern, and suddenly out of the fog, they saw it.

The _Flying Dutchman._

The last time Henry saw the ship was three years ago, in a storm traveling on a merchant vessel. He had stood on the desk amidst the raging weather and called out to his father’s ship, sailing half a league away. Now here he was, about to board his father’s ship. It was all he could do to keep from bouncing in his seat.

Carina felt an absolutely illogical fear. She knew—she _knew_ that this was only a ship, and at the same time she _knew_ it was a harbinger of death, a ghostly presence, something very much to be feared. Her heart quickened in her chest as they tied the dingy to the ship, and Bill offered her his hand so she could climb up first.

Her intellect won out. She took his hand (god! Why did it feel like that?) and went up the ladder on the side of the ship. Hands reached out to help her over the side, and when they touched her she felt that same icy chill, like the cold spray of the sea. She was placed firmly on the deck, and she could not help but stare.

This ship was bigger than Jack Sparrow’s, and Elizabeth’s. It boasted three masts, and anything that could be decorated had been. There were reliefs of great sea battles, of mythological monsters carved into the wood. As the crew brought everyone on board, she ventured about, amazed at how beautiful, how sorrowful this ship was.

She turned and went to Henry. “What is this ship?” she whispered.

Henry said, “It’s the ship of the dead.”

As much as Carina wanted to deny it, she felt in her heart that he was right.

“Captain on deck!” someone cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i haven't updated in a while. I applied to grad school and have been working on some original pieces. i cut the chapter here because i wasn't sure how to write the next bit, so. oh well. i also realize this is taking a very long time to get the story actually started. but. oh well. it's not a real screenplay, so it's okay.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow sorry this took me 5ever but i went on vacation for 2 weeks and i've been stressed and this chapter just WOULD NOT go in a good way. i think I've finally got it. 
> 
> thank you guys for all your lovely reviews. I'm trying to incorporate them in this story, because you guys have been giving great advice. i'm also tryyyyying to treat jack as the supporting character he should be, rather than the focus of the events. 
> 
> thanks for reading!

Carina’s breath caught in her throat as the man descended the steps from the upper deck. He wore all black, like some dark omen, from his tunic to his boots to the bandana that tied his wet black hair. At his hip was a sword that gleamed in a way that struck fear into Carina’s heart, and when she met his eyes, they held that same gleam.

This was the captain of the ship of the dead. Seeing him made Carina feel as though she had just plunged into the icy ocean depths. Here he stepped onto the deck, his hand resting on the handle of his dark sword, flexing his grip.

The only other time Carina had felt like this was when she first met the Pirate King, Elizabeth.

Suddenly the captain’s face changed. “Henry?” he said, in a voice that was both young and so, so old.

Henry said, “Father.”

Carina gawked as Henry, this naïve, sweet boy, ran into the open arms of most powerful man on these waters. Who was his father. Whose mother was king of all pirates.

Henry Turner.

* * *

 

Jack was really not looking forward to whatever news Will had for him. He was sure it wasn’t good. The captain of the _Flying Dutchman_ hurried down from the upper deck the moment he saw his son, with another man lagging behind him.

The reunion was, in Jack’s opinion, a bit much. Will embraced the boy and tousled his hair.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Will murmured, looking deep into his son’s eyes. Jack glanced at Hector and they rolled eyes together.

Then Hector said, “We’re on a bit of a schedule, mind you.”

Will broke away from his son. “As am I,” he said, regretfully. “There is only so much time I can take from my duties. Jack. I need you to meet this man. We found him lost at sea, near dead. He doesn’t speak English, but… he called your name.”

Jack looked the man up and down. An escaped slave, no doubt, and Jack had spent enough time in that vulgar trade to know it when he saw it. A dark-skinned man, dehydrated and shaking, with his eyes on Jack. So Jack gave a smile that looked more like a grimace. “He wouldn’t be the first bloke to do that!”

The joke was met with silence.

Carina tugged on Henry’s arm. “Was that a sexual joke?” she whispered.

Henry said, “Was it?”

The man watched Jack with large hooded eyes. Slowly, he lifted his hands, which Jack realized with a flinch still had shackles around the wrists, though no chains. The man pointed at himself. “Osay,” he said, in a raspy voice. “Osay.”

“Your name is Osay, good.” Jack smiled at everyone, hoping to show how well he was handling the situation. He was, on the contrary, full of mounting panic.

The man pointed at Jack. “Sparrow,” he said.

Jack nodded vigorously. “Get on with it, mate,” he pleaded.

Osay said, “Salazar.”

Jack blinked and said, “Who?”

“Sa-lah-zar,” Osay repeated. He made a gesture with his hand. “Com-pass.”

Hector said, “He means your compass, Jack.”

“What?” Jack said. “I don’t have it.” He turned back to Osay. “I’m sorry, I don’t have the compass anymore.”

Osay nodded, as if that was his point.

For a moment longer, Jack considered this. And then realization struck him like a woman’s slap. “O-oh,” he said. He turned to Will. “Oh. Fuck.”

Hector, damn him, had a memory like an elephant and made a sound that told Jack he understood. But he said nothing.

“Who is Salazar?” Will said. He grabbed Jack’s arm. “And why do you have Henry?” His expression grew worried. “Where’s Elizabeth?”

“Elizabeth is safe.” Jack removed Will’s hand with two fingers. “I’m afraid my friends and I need to make a quick exit.” He whipped around to Henry and Carina. “Quick, to the boat! Allons-y, and all. We are going to sail—.” He turned around again and went up to Osay. “What direction did you come from?”

Osay lifted his hand and pointed slowly to the east.

“Right, we will be sailing in that direction.” Jack pointed to the exact opposite direction.

“No,” said Henry. The faint breeze picked up. “We will be sailing for the trident! As soon as the moon rises we will have our heading.”

Jack said, “You forget that—I have _my_ own ship! Your mother has _her_ own ship! We can sail in bloody opposite directions. And we can—.”

A shout interrupted them. Carina suddenly sprinted forward and up the stairs to the upper deck. “The moon!” she cried. “The moon!”

Henry gasped and took off after her. Jack felt fear grip his heart and he went for the lifeboat, but almost unexpectedly found Hector’s sword at his throat.

“I would wait a little while, if I were you,” Hector said, “so that everyone can take the boat.”

* * *

 

Henry flew up the stairs after Carina, dodging a few crew members. She raced to the aft of the ship, the leather-bound notebook already in her hands. It had been subtle, the moon, with the smoke had been so thick they hadn’t realized that night had fallen. But now, the smoke was thinning with the wind, allowing the full moon to shine.

The moon was a coppery color, but as he watched its color grew redder in the smoke. It seemed to grow larger, at first only a coin, but now as Henry stared unblinking it was the size of a plate. Then something glinted, and Henry looked away from the hypnotic lunar eye to see Carina, holding the ruby in her hand.

“Captain!” called the man in the crow’s nest. “There’s a ship coming into the bay.”

This was it, Carina told herself. She was practically shaking with excitement. She held the ruby over the leather cover of the journal, and like a child with fireworks she squealed with delight when the moonlight hit the ruby. Filtered through the ruby like this, the light that fell on the cover revealed a star map. A star map! Carina could hardly contain her delight. She memorized it and moved the ruby down the cover, until the light shone on spindly red writing.

The escaped slave approached the side of the boat, squinted, and began to shout.

Henry appeared at her side as she struggled to keep her hand steady. “What’s it say?” he asked.

Carina took a deep breath. “To release the power of the sea, you must divide.”

Barbossa hobbled up beside Osay and held onto the ropes for support. “By the goddess,” he whispered. “What is that?”

The vessel could not possibly be floating, as it was merely the bones of a shipwreck, yet with only the shreds of sails it drew closer. It was quiet.

Osay grabbed Will by the shirt. “ _Go,_ ” he whispered. “ _Go!_ ”

“Henry!” Will cried. “Get back to the boat!” To Jack, he said, “You’re going back to shore.”

Barbossa looked at Will like he was insane. “You can’t send us away. The _Flying Dutchman_ is the safest place we can be!”

Will said, “That is a ghost ship. If I can’t go on land, they can’t either.”

“They’re moving fast, captain!”

“Aye!” Will replied, then he gripped Jack’s forearm. “Take the _Pearl._ It’s the only chance you’ll have outrunning them.”

“The _Pearl?_ ” Jack sputtered. “The _Pearl_ isn’t available right now.”

Barbossa said, “Even with the _Pearl,_ we won’t be makin’ it. To the boat! Quickly!”

Henry appeared with Carina in tow. “Father? What’s wrong?”

“You need to go,” Will told him. “Follow Captain Barbossa. I’ll try to hold them, but there’s not much I can do.”

Henry’s expression was one of turmoil, but after a moment he held his father in a tight embrace before breaking away and joining Carina, Jack, and Barbossa at the dingy.

* * *

 

Captain Salazar breathed deeply. Like this, out here, he could almost imagine the taste of the sea. Some vile black spittle ran down his chin. Jack Sparrow was close. If there was anything he could feel, it was that.

He looked back at his meager crew, half-men who were but shattered remains of whom they once were. First revenge, Salazar told himself. Then freedom.

He raised his sword high in the air and shouted, “ _Los tibur_ _òns!_ ”

His crew cheered in response and prepared to drop the sharks.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whew okay sorry that took 11 years to post but here ya go. i've changed a lot from the film. if you see errors please lmk. have a good day!

Carina kept twisting around in the dingy. “What is that?” she said, again. “It’s not possible for that boat to float. So it must not be a boat.” She turned back around to Jack, Henry, and Barbossa, the former two furiously working the oars. “Right?”

“Love if you don’t shut up we’ll push you overboard.” Jack grunted as he rowed.

“We would never!” cried Henry, also rowing.

“Row!” said Barbossa, who was not rowing. “Row like your bloody lives depend on it!”

Carina squinted at the boat in the distance, drawing ever closer. Henry’s father’s ship was making a slow turn, sails out and full, heading away from the bay. She clutched the journal in her hand, and as she stared at the impossible ship, she saw something drop off its side.

A spear of panic went through her. “They’ve put something in the water!” she said.

“So?” Jack said. “Hector, why don’t you ask your bloody goddess to give us a push?”

They were still far out from the shore. Carina could see that boat drawing ever closer, and in the water, in the red moonlight, she saw fins.

She made a split-second decision and began removing her dress.

Henry said, “What—Carina, what are you doing?”

“I’m going to swim,” she said.

“You’re mad!” said Henry.

“No,” Carina replied, “what’s mad is that I was just on a ghost ship, and there’s _another_ ghost ship and it’s supposedly after _you,_ Mr. Sparrow, and you are on _this_ boat. So I’ll take my chances with the water.”

“How dare you do exactly what I would do if I were you,” Jack said, gawking up at her as she shimmied out of her dress.

“Carina, stop, please!” Henry cried. He tried to stand but lost his balance.

“No, no, no don’t stop,” replied Jack.

Barbossa said, “Stop this right now young lady!”

Carina paused to give him a strange look. Then she removed her boots and, in only her underclothes, leapt into the dark ocean.

Jack glanced at Henry. “If you’d shut up she might have taken it all off.”

“I saw her ankles!” he cried, his face so red it was visible in the moonlight.

Barbossa stomped his wooden leg on Jack’s foot. “Row you filthy dogs!”

* * *

 

 

Elizabeth’s arm ached as she watched the ship that had infected her body, her life, turn away from the bay. The rowboat crawled closer, the water bloody with the moon’s red light. Someone jumped out of the rowboat and started swimming.

There came shouts from the _Flying Dutchman_ , and then the bright flashes of cannons.

Panic seized her heart as she searched the horizon for the target of the cannons. There, she spotted it, an incoming ship, with tattered sails and bones for a hull. Her husband and her son, they were out on the water.

“Henry!” she yelled. “ _Henry!_ ”

The _Tide Turner_ was turning to join the _Dutchman_ in the fight. The _Dying Gull_ hadn’t moved. And Elizabeth was stuck on land.

People both gathered on the shore to watch and rushed to get out of range of the cannon fire.

* * *

 

“Carina was right,” Henry said between cannons. He put his oar down and shakily stood up. “I’m going with her.”

“You stay away from her!” Barbossa said.

Jack looked at Barbossa knowingly, but Henry hesitated. “Um,” he said. “I’m gonna jump in now.”

Jack said quietly, “Your parenting is showing.”

Henry turned to the edge of the boat and was about to jump, when a vicious, rotting shark leapt out of the water, its jaw agape. The stench of it was vomit-inducing. Henry lost his balance again, and nearly dropped right into its mouth when someone yanked him back, and he fell hard on his arse.

“And yours?” Barbossa retorted, gesturing to how gallantly he had saved Henry.

“A shark!” Henry yelled. “A bloody shark! It tried to eat me!”

Someone abruptly lurched on the back of the rowboat and that smell again. The three men whipped their heads around to see another half-dead creature take a chunk out of the boat, near where Jack’s head had been.

“It tried to eat _me!_ ” Jack cried. He scrambled to his feet. “We have to swim—!”

A shark leapt clean out of the water, spraying them with salty brine. Its great, stinking mouth snapped right as Jack ducked, and it arched over them before dropping back into the sea on the other side of the boat.

* * *

 

Captain Salazar on his ship saw in the blood red moonlight that his sharks had the dingy cornered. A cannon from the _Dutchman_ hit the side of his ship and sent two of his men flying. He was indifferent to everything save his revenge. “ _Vamos,_ men! To the sea!”

His crewed cheered, swords raised. They leapt off this ship into the water that could never drown them, landing with a splash on its surface. Without sinking, they ran across the water, toward Jack Sparrow.

* * *

 

Henry’s eyes nearly popped out his head. “They’re coming!”

Barbossa knelt in the water that was rapidly filling the bottom of the boat. “O, Calypso, goddess of the sea, deliver us from this here evil so that we may continue to serve you. O, Calypso, goddess of the sea, deliver us so that we may right this wrong on your waters. O, Calypso—.”

“What’s he doing?” Henry said.

Jack grabbed an oar and screamed as he batted a shark away with it. “Hector, your sea witch won’t help us.” The oar was snapped off by the next shark that came to bite it. Jack gave a panicked yell and grabbed the first weapon he saw.

Which was Barbossa’s sword.

Henry said, “What do I do?”

A shark popped up, mouth wide, and Jack struck it with the sword. To his surprise, when it hit, the blade cut, and the animal screamed a dying scream and slipped back into the water.

It was then that Jack realized that he knew this sword. It did not belong to Barbossa, no, but the pirate Blackbeard, the very same that had imprisoned his beloved _Pearl_ in the bottle.

Suddenly, the boat lurched below them, hard enough to knock Jack off his feet. He twisted around to see a horde of ashen sailors charging them across the water, swords high, and he felt fear seize him in a way it hadn’t in a long, long time.

The boat lurched again, and then suddenly shot forward. Jack, Henry, and Barbossa gripped the sides for dear life. They went skipping across the water, faster than their attackers could follow.

* * *

 

Elizabeth helped Carina stagger out of the water, and when they both turned their attention back to the battle, they saw a rather peculiar sight.

The dingy carrying Jack, Henry, and Barbossa had been lifted up by what looked like a giant hand. They were rocketing across the water at an impossible speed, careening toward the shore until, suddenly, the hand dropped back into the waves, and the rowboat skipped twice more before crashing into the sand.

“Henry!” both Elizabeth and Carina cried, and they sprinted for them.

Elizabeth slid on her knees to see to her son. The rowboat was in splinters around them. “Quickly,” she said. “We need to get away from the shore.” She glanced at the water and saw that the pirates were still advancing. “Quickly!”

Henry panted and held his mother’s hand. “No, Mum,” he said. “They can’t come ashore.”

* * *

 

Salazar’s prize might have been jerked from his grasp, but no matter. He ran so hard he could almost feel his heart pumping in his chest. _Sparrow,_ he thought. _I’ll have you at last._

One of his crew, Dante, broke rank and charged toward shore. He splashed through the shallows and then kicked through the sand, and then—

And then his legs seemed to dissolve. He dropped, and looked back at himself, panicking. But his hips and waist and torso also turned to ash. He screamed, and then was gone.

“ _Stop!_ ” Salazar ordered, coming to a halt himself. There, only yards from him, was the Sparrow, the bloody Sparrow. Lying prone on a beach. A sword out of his reach. Salazar approached cautiously, where the water lapped at the sand. He reached out with his hand and saw that his fingers began to unravel. Panicked, he drew them back.

He could throw his sword. But it would be too easy to miss, and then he would be without a weapon. He looked at the two women, the pirate Barbossa, the young boy. And then he looked at the gathering crowd of onlookers.

Salazar pointed his sword at Jack, whose eyes were filled with exactly what Salazar wanted to see. “You leave this island,” he said, “you’re a dead man.”

With no other choice, Salazar turned back to his men. “I want men stationed around the entire island! No one goes off it.” Then he nodded at the three ships, the _Dutchman,_ the _Gull,_ and the _Tide Turner._ “For every hour Jack Sparrow remains on land, we kill one person from those ships. _Vamos!_ ”


	13. Chapter 13

“What are you orders, Captain?” asked Bill Turner.

Will felt immense relief at seeing his son ashore, knowing he would be safe. He turned away before he started looking for Elizabeth over there, and instead glanced overhead to see the bloodred moon still shining. “At dawn,” he said, calling to his crew, “our duty will call us again. But I daresay the goddess Calypso will spare us this night. There is, after all, room for only one ghost ship on these waters.” He laughed. “To the cannons!”

And on the _Tide Turner,_ Leta, the elderly woman and Elizabeth’s first mate, saw the undead men crossing the water, their steps never breaking the surface. “Ready the cannons!” she cried. “You fight these cursed men lest they curse you as well. If they board this ship you cut them into pieces! If they take your friend you take all of theirs! _Pare batay!_ ”

The crew cheered. Leta drew her own sword. They were untested in the Caribbean’s magic. Leta did not show it, but she was afraid.

* * *

 

“We’re stuck here!” Jack said. “Stuck on this diseased piece of land, doomed to never again be on the sea.” He threw up his hands. “Stuck _again!_ This is at least the third time. Why does this always happen to me?”

“We don’t all have to be stuck here,” Carina snapped. She was cold, shivering as they gazed out at the ships. “If we give you to them they’ll leave.”

Jack gawked at her, and then at Elizabeth. “Women are always so much more conniving than men, aren’t they? The needs of the many and all that. After this I’m swearing off women!”

“Oh, do shut up,” Barbossa said.

Elizabeth silently chewed on her nail. Her crew would never leave without her, she knew, and she watched as the cursed men turned their backs on the island and headed towards the anchored ships. Jack was right. This was a situation she had been in before, and had solved with Jack’s death. She couldn’t help but consider it again.

“Calypso can’t help us now, hm?” Jack snapped. “She so graciously saved our necks earlier and now she’s busy doing other things? A bloody divine tea party?”

Barbossa got to his feet. “Do not speak so flagrantly about Calypso. You know as well as I the power she has, and if you wish to continue sailing her seas you best give her her dues. Now where is the _Pearl,_ Jack? If we have any chance of leaving this godforsaken rock it’s on the fastest ship in the Caribbean.”

Jack grimaced. Slowly, he removed the bottle from his pocket.

Barbossa gawked. Carina leaned in. “Incredible,” she whispered. “Absolutely incredible. Is it heavy? May I hold it?”

Jack gave her a sideways glance, but held the bottle out for her nonetheless.

The bottle weighed no more than an ordinary bottle, yet there inside it she could definitely see an entire ship, and the rolling waves of the sea. Carina flipped it upside down, and the water in it sloshed and the ship remained upright.

“That’s quite enough,” Jack said, snatching it back. “It’s fragile.”

“The _Black Pearl_ is there?” Elizabeth said, and her voice was somewhere between disbelief and outrage.

Jack said, “Aye. Had a run-in with a bearded gentleman that didn’t like me much, and his daughter that did. The sort of woman that makes you realize things, that one. The sort that will… realize things for you.”

Henry murmured, “Is _that_ a sexual reference?” to Carina, who scowled.

Elizabeth said, “How do we get the ship out of the bottle?”

“We can’t, not without the Sword of Triton,” said Jack.

Barbossa stood and drew his sword. “This sword, ye mean?” He expected everyone to take a moment and admire the sword, this great ancient magical artifact that he had acquired, but it was not to be the case.

“Who’s Triton?” asked Carina loudly.

Barbossa rolled his eyes. Bloody children.

“Triton is a deity of the sea,” Henry answered, standing up to admire the blade. “It is said that he forged this sword in the lost city of Atlantis, and that whoever wields it may bring life to whatever they choose.”

Barbossa changed his mind. This child was tolerable. He paid the sword the proper respect, at least.

Jack had been inching toward the sword, and at the last minute Barbossa noticed and jerked it out of his reach. “It was me that won it and it’ll be me that wields it.”

Jack smiled. “Of course, Hector.” He held the bottle out in his hand. “Then we are agreed that it was me that won it,” he said, holding the bottle up, the _Pearl_ rocking on its waves, “and it’ll be me that captains it.”

The tension between the two pirates was palpable, Jack’s expression one of mirth and victory, Barbossa’s sour and displeased. Expressions both of them wore magnificently.

“Hand it over,” Barbossa growled, “ _captain._ ”

Jack placed the bottle in Barbossa’s open hand.

“Wait!” cried Henry. All eyes turned to him. He said, “If you do it now, and here, on this shore, we’ll never escape. And those who would help us on those ships out there will be slaughtered.”

Everyone looked out at the bay, and all of them understood that even with a ship as fast as the _Black Pearl,_ they would not get past the ghost ship.

“What do you propose then, young Turner?” Barbossa asked, in that accusatory way he did.

Henry looked at Carina. “You have our heading? To the trident?”

Carina nodded. “There’s a constellation on this book. I saw it. I only need to get away from this smoke so I can see the stars.”

Henry said, “Releasing the trident will break all the curses. Including the one on these men. Jack, if we get to the trident, they’ll stop pursuing you.”

“Great,” said Jack. “That doesn’t get us off this confounded spit of land now, does it? We are trapped on an island of sick and dying and ultimately ugly people and we can’t do anything about it!”

As he spoke, the air suddenly erupted into cannon fire. Bright flashes from the two ships, the _Dutchman_ and the _Tide Turner_. The dead men still stood on the water, surprised, and then at their captain’s command half returned to the ship, and half broke into a sprint toward the _Dutchman._

“They’re boarding Father’s ship!” Henry cried.

Elizabeth said, “This is the diversion we need. Come on. I swore a long time ago to never get stuck with Jack on land again.” She went to a large fishing boat and turned to the others. “With me, now. Heave!”

* * *

 

Osay watched the undead monsters climb aboard the _Flying Dutchman,_ and he felt vengeance boil in his blood. He had wept for his dead brothers and sisters, slaughtered alongside those white devils that had ripped them from their land. He had held his dead sister in his arms and wondered, desperately, if it wasn’t possible to put the spilled blood back in her veins.

He had shed all the tears he had. He would cut out his own heart if it would help to destroy Salazar, to stop those pale-skinned murderers from taking his people from their land.

Now, with the weight of shackles around his wrists, he held the sword Will had given him and readied to fight.

* * *

 

Salazar clambered aboard the _Dutchman_ , and hefted himself onto the deck of the ship and stood up, leaning heavily on the swords. His legs just didn’t work right since becoming this… thing. He looked around, and staggered forward.

All around him, his crew was clashing blades with the men of this ship. He hardly registered the massacre, his eyes only for the captain. If he killed him, he reasoned, the rest would drop much quicker.

“Who is captain here?” he called. As he spoke, he drooled black bile. He spat it onto the deck. “I will fight _el capitan!_ ”

“He wants to fight the captain!” cried one of the enemy.

Salazar scowled. Why did these men not cower in fear at the sight of them? Why, he realized, were they not falling to their blows? They took hits from the swords of his ghostly crew and yet remained standing, not a drop of blood. “Stop!” he cried. “ _Stop!_ ”

The swords stopped clanging. Salazar looked around wildly. It didn’t make sense.

“Captain Salazar!” someone shouted, and Salazar whipped his head around to see a man in black, standing on the upper deck. Next to him was, impossibly, the Negro he had spared on that French ship. “Allow me to welcome you aboard the _Flying Dutchman!_ ”

Around him, his crew roared with laughter. The captain descended the steps, and Salazar took in the massive scar across his chest that his loose tunic revealed. “I am the immortal captain, William Turner. And to you all, I offer a choice. Serve on my crew, and live a life without fear of death. A life free of your curse!” He smiled a winning smile. “Or continue to live your half-lives, never living, but never dying either. It’s up to you.”

Salazar felt a fury rise up inside him, so red and violent he nearly screamed. “Killing _Sparrow_ will free us from this curse!” he spluttered, spraying vile black spittle. “I will kill you. And I will _kill_ the Sparrow!” He cheered, and his crew cheered with him.

The captain, William Turner, shrugged. “Have it your way,” he said, and he drew his sword and attacked.

* * *

 

The boat was large but still cramped with how many of them were piled into it. As they sailed towards the cannon fire, Jack looked back at Elizabeth, who sat diligently at the rudder. He saw, hanging from her belt, his compass. Not his anymore, he thought. He thought back to the day it was given to him.

 _You must give up something precious,_ Tia Dalma had told him.

 _I have nothing precious,_ he’d replied, and then smiled. _Not yet._

 _But you do,_ she’d said.

 _Then it is yours,_ he had said.

Tia Dalma had placed a hand heavy with rings over his heart, and called him his own name for the very last time.

 _I don’t understand what you took,_ he’d said. _Do I need it?_

 _The beauty of names,_ she had whispered, smiling, _is that we can give them to ourselves._ She had held the compass by its strap, dangling it over him. _What is your name?_

Another memory, of Salazar’s pursuit of the _Wicked Wench._ Jack remembered feeling in his heart that he only wanted to live. He jeered and taunted that Spanish navy vessel but dear _god_ how he had only wanted to live. Holding the compass, the most precious thing he owned, he had begged for a way out.

Then he had seen those rocks, and realized that the _Wicked Wench_ was much smaller than the navy ship, and it would be risky, but—

They’d made the swinging maneuver, tricked the Spanish ship into sailing into the rocks. He’d ordered the cannons. He’d watched them sink. All the while swinging the compass, holding it close to him…

There it was, with Elizabeth. He suddenly remembered Shansa’s words: _What your heart desires more than anything will be yours, if you only choose to pursue it._

The compass had pointed to her. And the witch Shansa told him he could have what he wanted if only he took it.

Jack gulped and began fidgeting with the rope in his hands.

* * *

 

Barbossa held the _Pearl_ in one hand and his sword in the other. He squinted at the ships ahead, and breathed deeply. Ooh, the smoke was starting to irritate his lungs a bit. He coughed.

“Should we release it?” Henry asked.

“Not yet,” Barbossa replied calmly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Henry clasp Carina’s hand.

They sailed closer to the opening between the ships.

“Now?” said Jack, quaking.

“Be ready with that rope, Jack,” Elizabeth called.

“I’m ready with the bloody rope, is Hector ready with the bloody sword!?”

“Sh!” said Carina. Barbossa smiled. He could be proud of this girl. He took a moment to look at her, really look at her. If this plan didn’t work he’d never get another chance. How much she looked like her mother, he saw it in her dark hair and curved lips. And yet hints of his family, of the sister he lost when he was ten, of his mother and her blue eyes. She had grown into a fine young woman, his daughter.

His _daughter._

Barbossa went back to watching the ships.

* * *

 

The ringing of steel on the _Dutchman_ as swords clashed could be heard over the roar of cannons. Salazar swung his two swords, dancing across the deck, but Will parried his every blow. Salazar grew more furious, and his attacks lost their finesse. He faltered for just a moment. And in that moment William Turner drove his sword through his gut.

Salazar paused, the blow catching him by surprise. He almost felt it.

Almost.

“Captain Salazar!” one of his crew called. “The Sparrow!”

He looked up and saw the small fishing boat drawing closer under the bloodred light of the moon. Jack Sparrow was off land. He shouted for his men, “To arms, to the sea, kill the Sparrow!” Then he turned, pulled William Turner’s sword from his stomach, and watched as more black bile spilled from the wound. “You think to kill me?” he said.

Will smiled again that infuriating smile. “I’m just the distraction.”

* * *

 

From the boat, they could see Salazar lean over the side of _Dutchman,_ his sword raised, and the undead sailors begin dropping off the side of the boat, landing hard on the water, unable to break the surface. They picked themselves up as if on land.

“Now?” Jack whimpered as they began to charge.

Barbossa shook his head. “No.”

“Barbossa,” Elizabeth warned as they drew closer.

“I said not yet!”

“I think now,” said Henry.

 “Hold _steady!_ ”

They were almost upon them. Carina squeezed Henry’s hand so tight her knuckles turned white. “Now!” she cried.

“I restore the _Black Pearl!_ ” Barbossa cried, and he tossed the bottle into the air and sliced it in two.

The halves of the bottle dropped unimpressively into the water.

“We’re going to die,” Carina said.

“The rope, Jack!” yelled Barbossa, for the water had begun to ripple, and he knew they had only one chance.

Suddenly that dark hull broke the surface of the water, knocking several of the undead off their feet, and was growing _fast._

“ _The rope!_ ” Elizabeth shouted.

Jack stood in the boat and hurled the lasso. It missed.

Without warning, Elizabeth stood and ran across the laps of everyone in the fishing boat. She grabbed the rope from Jack’s hand and leaped onto the rising hull of the _Pearl._ Quickly she secured it to one of the hooks on the starboard side, and as the ship was restored to its former glory, its sails fully unfurled and it lurched forward, taking them with it.

With the fishing boat skipping along behind the _Pearl,_ Elizabeth lifted her head and looked toward the _Flying Dutchman._ And for one frozen moment, she saw him. Will. He stood there on the desk of his ghost ship, his eyes on her. Oh, how her heart longed for him! How she missed the warmth of his touch, and the sound of his voice.

And yet at the sight of the _Dutchman_ , the barnacles on her arm seemed to flare, seemed to creep closer to her heart, and so she looked away.

In this same moment, Jack saw Salazar, as he had seen him that day over thirty years ago, trapped amongst the rocks, looking death in the eye. His crew pursued, weapons raised, screaming the screams of the tortured dead.

And then they were past the _Dutchman_ and gone.

* * *

 

Leta watched with utter shock as a full-blown ship rose out of the goddamn water. “All right!” she yelled. “That’s our cue. Retreat!”

Soon the _Tide Turner_ was sailing away, in a different direction than the _Pearl._ Leta saluted her captain from a distance. She would take good care of her vessel while she was gone. “Head to our home port!” she ordered. “And no slacking while the captain’s away!”

Leta took one last look at those two ghostly ships, and then turned her back to them. The sooner they were gone from here, the better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone thanks again for sticking around and reading. i am trying to learn how a ship of line is steered for a scene next chapter but it's hard.


	14. Chapter 14

They sailed through the night, following the stars. Carina guided Barbossa with the writings in her book, always checking the stars to maintain course. And when they arrived at the base of the trident in the sky, Carina exclaimed with glee, “We’re here!” and Barbossa gave the order to drop anchor.

It was early, the night at its darkest, and everyone leapt out of bed and rushed to the deck to see…

Nothing.

All around them was open water.

“There’s nothing here!” said Elizabeth.

Henry leaned over the side, holding a lantern. “Maybe it’s under the water?”

“No, no!” Carina called. She held her book up to the light. “There must be an island! It says, ‘and here the place where the stars shine from the Earth.’ There must be land!”

“That could mean anything!” Jack cried, throwing his hands up.

Carina scowled. “It _means_ land.” She flipped through the book. “Maybe I missed something? But how? We’re here! That is the northern-most star!” She growled in frustration. “Okay, what happened? What led us to this point? Help me!”

Henry said eagerly, “We used your book to navigate!”

“That’s not the problem, I need more!”

“We used a teenage girl to navigate,” said Jack bitterly.

Elizabeth said, “We were attacked by the ghost ship, and we saw Will.”

“We raised the _Pearl,_ ” said Barbossa proudly.

“We read your book on the _Flying Dutchman!_ ” Henry offered.

“Under the blood moon!” said Jack.

Carina held up her hand. “Under the blood moon…” She took a few steps and stopped, her mind whirring. “But it wasn’t a blood moon. We went to the Bloody Bay because we missed the blood moon. The real blood moon was—.” She looked at Barbossa. “I need a star chart. Now!”

“What?” Jack asked as Barbossa limped to the cabin. “What did she do wrong?”

Henry’s eyes widened. “Of course!” he said to his mother. “The stars have changed since the real blood moon.”

Elizabeth said, “We could be a hundred miles from where we need to be.”

“Not a hundred,” Carina said. Barbossa placed a star chart on the barrel and brought a lantern down to her. “I just need to calculate where this constellation would have been on the date of the blood moon.”

Elizabeth mounted the stairs to the upper deck. “You need to do it fast,” she said. She pointed to the horizon.

All eyes turned to see there, on the eastern horizon, light peaking over the water. And in that light, they could see the silhouette of a ship.

“They’re already here!” Jack cried. “Do your… silly calculation-y thingy and get us out of here!”

“Can you tell us the direction?” Elizabeth asked. “We can correct as we go, but if we remain here, we’re already dead.”

Carina nodded. “Head northwest.”

* * *

 

The _Black Pearl_ cut across the water, putting distance between itself and its pursuer, but not knowing their destination made them lose precious time. The stars were fading fast, and every correction to their course brought the ghost ship ever closer.

“They’re gaining!” Jack cried, leaning out over the side of the ship.

“For captain of the ship, you’re not doing much captaining,” Barbossa called. He stood next to Carina and Henry, pouring over the star charts.

“Ready the cannons!” Elizabeth shouted from the helm.

Jack said, “Ready the—I was going to say that!”

“We don’t have enough men,” Henry called back.

“Exactly what I was going to say,” Jack said.

“We’ve had worse odds,” Elizabeth said. “Henry, Jack, starboard cannons! Barbossa, steer!” She relinquished the wheel and Barbossa caught it before it spun too far. Elizabeth landed with a thud as she vaulted the railing and leapt over most of the stairs to descend belowdecks. She joined her son and Jack at the cannons.

“Two points north,” Carina said. “We’re almost there!”

The dawn had fully broken, and with it the wind died. Barbossa felt it in his bones before he saw the sails sag. The sea was a fickle master.

“What’s happened?” Carina said.

“The wind,” Barbossa said. “It’s petered out.”

Carina turned to look at the ghost ship, drawing ever closer while the _Pearl_ rose and fell with the waves. “So we can’t go!?” she said, more out of panic than anything. Of course a ship couldn’t go with no wind. But the logic did not stop her heart from pounding in her chest. “What do we do?”

Barbossa glared at the air around them, as if he could see the wind itself. “We must wait.” He turned his stony eyes on her. “Do ye know how to use a sword, Miss Smyth?”

Carina felt a cold drop of fear in the pit of her stomach. “I have always found the pen to be mightier,” she said, unable to keep her voice steady. “But I can see how, in this particular situation, I might be wrong.”

Barbossa smiled wryly. “Your wit stays sharp ‘til the end, I see.” Just like her mother.

The ghost ship was not bound to earthly law. They rode a different wind, one that had no need for sails and roared at the idea of vengeance. Captain Salazar could barely remember the feel of his heart, how it used to make his blood rush before a fight. He felt something now, something close to warm. Perhaps to spill the blood of a living man would bring him that much closer to the life he lacked.

Elizabeth reached for her son’s hand and gripped it tight. Henry felt the hard, calciferous growth on the back of his mother’s hand. He looked at her, at her tired eyes and suddenly he had a terrible, terrible feeling that all was not going to be all right.

Then the ghost ship was upon them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "hey did u do a cliffhanger as a copout so u could think about the next part more?"


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wowwww did this chapter take a long time or what!? i went on a 3 week road trip, and then i was working/preparing to move, now i am moved and unemployed so that means! writing!!! 
> 
> again, thank you all for reading, please leave comments, i'm thinking like 2 more chapters and this fic will be done! bisous!!!

The early morning air was cold, and from where she stood Carina could see the men on the other ship. Their breath did not cloud the air, as hers did. They were, she realized all over again, inhuman.

The enemy captain raised his sword, and gave the order in Spanish. Cannons flashed. Each ship rocked with the force of the blows. Carina gripped the sword Barbossa had given her. “What if they can’t die?” she said, feeling slightly hysterical. “This sword isn’t magic, is it?” She looked at the old captain, leaning against the ship’s wheel. His lips moved fast, as if praying.

“Prepare to board!” shouted the undead captain, and fear gripped Carina.

“Oh no,” she breathed. “Oh, please, oh please wind, please please please wind come back.”

A hand touched her shoulder, and she screamed. But it was only Barbossa. “Look at the sails,” he said.

Carina looked up, and sure enough, they were moving.

There was a crash, for the other pirates had dropped a gangplank onto the _Black Pearl,_ and they were rushing across to fight.

The _Pearl_ lurched with the new wind, and pulled away. The gangplank was knocked down as the ship began to pull away, but not before several of the crewman had made it across.

“Bring me the Sparrow!” cried the captain from the other ship.

“We’ve been boarded!” Barbossa cried. He drew a sword from beside the wheel, for the sword in his scabbard he had given to Carina. He hobbled across the deck and clashed blades with the first of the undead pirates.

* * *

 

Elizabeth and Henry kept firing at the ghost ship as the _Pearl_ pulled away. Having his mother beside him kept the fear at bay. Then he felt something, like someone was behind him, and he turned to see those strange, blue pirates belowdecks, weapons rearing.

In the blink of an eye Elizabeth twirled away from the cannon and met them with a flash of steel. “Henry, get out!” she cried. She attacked with fury, unrelenting in her advance as she pushed the pirates back, two of them against her. A third was coming for Henry.

On instinct Henry drew his sword and blocked the blow. He tried to circle, to dance around to where he was between the pirate and the stairs, but his opponent was far more skilled than he.

Then Jack Sparrow leapt between the two of them, and fired a bullet into the pirate. It blew the man back, and shocked him enough that Henry had the opportunity to run. He paused halfway up the stairs, to see his mother fighting viciously, now with Jack Sparrow at her side.

“I’ll _cut_ you apart!” Elizabeth screamed. “You will _wish_ you could die! You _dare_ hurt my son!?”

Their blades were singing. Elizabeth managed to slice a man in half, but his legs continued to dance around while his top half dragged itself across the floor, sword in hand. Jack stomped on its head and lopped off both its hands. “Last time we fought together,” he said, breathless “you were getting married.”

Elizabeth kicked a man hard enough that her boot went through his chest cavity and got stuck. Jack was behind her in an instant, and tugged sharply so her leg was freed. “And widowed,” she said, with a ghost of a smile.

Jack was saved from finding a response to that by the third pirate still coming at them. They fought, Jack slicing him in every which way, but all that did was release a foul smelling black bile. “I think we should leave,” he said.

“Lest we suffocate,” Elizabeth agreed, and they hurriedly backed away and raced up the stairs.

* * *

 

Carina held desperately to the ship’s wheel while Barbossa fought off the attackers. She had to keep them on course. But there was something glittering up ahead. At first she thought it was the sun reflecting off the water, but… no. It was land! “There!” she cried. “There’s the island where the stars shine on Earth!”

Henry, having just emerged from belowdecks, raced to the bow of the ship and saw it. An incredible, sparkling black volcanic island. They were so close!

Some of the pirates that had been advancing on Barbossa noticed Henry and charged him. Henry raised his sword, but there were four of them, and he was quaking.

Carina saw this and let go of the wheel. She raised the sword Barbossa had given her and raced down the steps.

To everyone’s utter surprise, the rigging of the _Pearl_ began to move. Like snakes the ropes twisted themselves around the four pirates, twisting them up and dangling them in the air. They struggled against their bindings, but they could not move.

“What the hell!” Carina screamed. She looked at the ship like it would attack her at any moment.

Henry came to her side. “You have the Sword of Triton,” he said in awe. He looked to Barbossa, locked in battle with the pirates on the wheel deck. “Why did he give it to you?”

Suddenly, the ship lurched so violently that Carina was knocked into Henry, and both were thrown off their feet. The _Black Pearl_ had struck land. One of the undead swung in his ropes and must have crossed into the domain of land, for he turned to dust with an agonized scream.

Henry and Carina looked at each other, suddenly reminded that on land, they were safe. In an impulse decision, Henry grabbed the now loose rope, threw an arm around Carina’s waist, and swung them down to the ground.

He felt, for a moment, rather heroic, but of course all of his concentration was in holding onto that rope and not dropping Carina, so he mucked up the landing. Badly. They tumbled together and the sharp volcanic rock cut Henry’s chest and cheek. Carina fared better, but her forearms were red and bloody.

Back on the ship, Barbossa remained locked in battle. Elizabeth and Jack had stumbled on the stairs as the ship struck land. Now they were on the deck, and Elizabeth, having just seen Henry escape to land, raced to help Barbossa.

Salazar’s ship was almost upon them.

Jack hurried to the bow and saw Henry and Carina. He grabbed one of the swinging zombies in rope and rappelled down to land, the undead pirate screaming all the way. He landed in a cloud of zombie dust. “Right,” he said. “Let’s get that trident, shall we?”

* * *

 

Barbossa was waning. After another forceful hit, his blade flew out of his hand. Elizabeth jumped in, but the _Silent Mary_ had reached them against, and more former members of the Spanish Royal Navy were boarding the _Pearl._ Surrounded, with her back to Barbossa, Elizabeth had no choice but to surrender.

Salazar crossed the gangplank, leaning heavily on the two swords he used to walk. Up the steps, to the wheel deck, where his crew had Barbossa and Elizabeth on their knees. He looked at them both, and he had hoped to see a little more fear in their eyes. “My name,” he said, the black bile bubbling at his lips, “is Captain Armando Salazar.” He smiled. “I want the Sparrow.”

The prisoners remained silent.

Salazar tried to feel the life within them, to latch onto that warmth. But, he realized, each of them had so little of it. “You,” he said slowly, “are closer to me than you think.” He nodded. “Yes… you, old man, you have known death well.” Then he held his sword at Elizabeth’s throat. “And you… you are coming to know death.”

Barbossa said, “Aye, I’ve known death. And I’ve beaten it. I can show you how.”

Salazar was in his face so quickly that Barbossa flinched. “I do not _want_ to beat death,” he hissed. “I want Jack the Sparrow. He imprisoned me and my men, _good_ men, in a strange, unworldly state. I want him as cursed as I am. I want him to live suffering eternal!”

Barbossa paused, then smiled. “If you know Jack at all,” he said, “you’ll know that living eternal is exactly what he wants to do.”

* * *

 

Carina, Henry, and Jack walked carefully across the island, awestruck by the beauty of it. Thousands of crystals, diamonds, glittering gems that were surely worth a fortune. Jack had already tried to pry one up and all he got for his efforts were some cuts on his fingers.

“It’s incredible,” Carina said to Henry. She was dragging the Sword of Triton as it was too heavy to lift. “Look, there’s Cassiopeia! And, goodness, Ursa Major and Minor! It’s a beautiful map of the heavens.” She grabbed his hand with her free one, she was so content at what surrounded her. Henry blushed and did not pull away.

“Yes, it’s all wonderful,” said Jack. “But I don’t see any trident here, do you?”

Carina looked around. She had a hunch that finding the trident constellation would provide the answer. Her hand slipped out of Henry’s as she began picking her way across the rocks, marveling at every step. Here were the constellations she had studied, projected on Earth in a feat she could imagine no man accomplishing. But then, she realized, perhaps it wasn’t a man. Perhaps it was a god.

Finally, she spotted a gem that did not match the others. It was bloody red. When she approached it, she saw that it was part of the trident constellation. But the gem was imperfect.

Henry said, “Carina. The ruby on your diary.”

Carina hurried to produce it. The stone was heavy in her palm, and she turned it until she saw its sides line up like a puzzle, and she set it in its place.

The ruby began to glow, then the whole gems turned from red to a bright, glowing white. The shine spread through the constellation, then to all the stars on the island. Then the ground began to shake.

Jack had already hightailed it back towards the _Pearl._ Henry grabbed Carina to pull her away from the epicenter. They ran, hand in hand, until the sound of rushing water made them stop.

The ground was still trembling, but they could see now that it was not the island splitting open, but the sea. As the water parted, there were steps leading from the island down to the sea floor.

Cautiously, they approached the steps. “To release the power of the sea,” Henry murmured.

Carina said, “You must divide.” She glanced at him. “So we’ve released the trident?”

Jack said, “Only one way to find that out, love.”

Henry took a deep breath and held out his hand for Carina. They descended the steps together.


End file.
